


Wiping History

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Hunger Games Arena, Little bit of angst, Post-Mockingjay, and romance of course, little bit of friendship, little bit of healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2018-12-20 03:51:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: “What will happen when we get to your arena?” she demanded. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it."75 arenas and one colossal task for Effie Trinket.Hayffie. Post-MJ





	1. The Last Living Escort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, another Saturday with another brand new story! The idea for this came to mind not long after I posted the last chapter of Chasing Hope and I surprised myself by managing to write all the chapters for this story within the week. I had planned for it to only be 5 chapters long but if you know me, that didn't quite worked out so there are 13 chapters in total (could be more if I decide to split any of it in two.) This isn't an AU and takes place post-mj.
> 
> This story is written solely in Effie's point of view, which is a rare thing coming from me, since I often alternate the two in my fics but I like the challenge of trying to get you guys to interpret Haymitch's actions/motivations without exploring his point of view :)

  1. **Last Living Escort**



Effie realised quickly that something was amiss when _she_ was invited – nay, _summoned_ – to the Parliament House.

Either she was in trouble or there was something required of her. Someone of her status and her reputation would not warrant a seat at the Council meeting or have any business at the Parliament, not when she was of no importance to the ruling government.

Effie climbed the steps of the half desecrated building, taking in the sights of the large boulders that still sat at the side of the road and the blown up windows that had been boarded up. The steps and roads leading up to the building had been paved with rubbles and debris a few weeks ago. Now, most had been moved to the side for it to be taken away later. She head there would be plans to fully reconstruct the Parliament soon which would be wise since one cannot have the seat of government looking half blown away by bombs for long.

There was security checkpoints placed at the entrances. Effie placed her handbag through the machine and stepped through the metal detector, please that it did not go off. Grabbing her bag, she stood dutifully in line behind a man and waited to be registered in.

 “Effie Trinket,” she gave her name to the woman behind the counter.

“No such record, I’m afraid.”

Effie sighed tiredly. “Please try Euphemia Trinket.”

After a few strokes of the keyboard and with nothing negative forthcoming, Effie assumed that the woman had found her name in the records.

“Purpose of your visit?”

“I was told to be present at two in the afternoon today for a meeting. I was not told _why._ ”

“Do you have any documentary evidence to state your required attendance for this … meeting?”

“I’m afraid I do not have such a thing. It was by way of phone call,” Effie tried to explain as patiently as she could. “Plutarch Heavensbee called me.”

The person she was before the war would have surely kicked up a fuss and demanded that she be let in but it was different now and she was _tired_. If she were turned away, she would even gladly do so. As curious as she was about the reason the Council wanted her attendance, she was not _that_ particularly interested to answer to anyone or about anything today.

She had given her cooperation and her statements – copious amount of details – as part of her bargain. Both Plutarch and Haymitch had fought for her but there were still crimes she needed to answer to. She was probably, by now, partly responsible for the numerous arrest of politicians and Games officials under Snow’s regime.

Effie was sure these people had cursed her name and wished death upon her but Haymitch had convinced her to do it and she had listened, like she always had all these time. She was just an escort, a small fish in the big ocean. They wanted the big players and with Finnick gone, she was the next best person with secrets in her bags, secrets that not even Plutarch as Head Gamemaker knew. People tend to talk to those they deemed inferior after all, those of lesser position, and it made her wonder how often she had let her tongue loose in front of an avox.

The newly elected government was wiping out every connection there was to the Games. They were ensuring that nothing and no one from that era would make it to the next without facing some form of justice so the fact that she was still free was something of a miracle to her.

Haymitch… Haymitch had made sure she walked free.

Peeta had vouched for her.

Katniss had done the same too during a rare phone call that Effie heard Haymitch had made her answer from District Twelve.

Johanna and Annie, as well.

She had the backing of several victors which lend incredible weight to her case and had it not been for them…

Effie was exhausted. All she wanted to do right now was to head home and curl in her bed. She wanted nothing more to do with this Council, even if President Paylor had always treated her with a modicum of respect. She wanted to be able to think of the next plan now that most of President Snow’s people had been imprisoned and she could probably stop looking over her shoulders for them.

She didn’t think it would be that easy, of course, but she could at least try.

“Effie!”

 At the sound of her name, she turned and barely braced herself before he pulled her into hug. While she and Plutarch had never been what one would consider friends before, he had certainly been quite present in her life lately. He kissed her cheeks as was customary and she in turn, offered him a smile.

“She will be coming with me,” Plutarch informed the woman with a jovial wave of his hand. “My apologies – I was supposed to be here waiting for your arrival but the meeting ran past the time. You know how it is with meetings…”

“Only too well,” she said cordially. “Now, what is this all about, Plutarch? Is there a reason I am being called here? I have given your people everything I have and correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought those people of interest had all been arrested last – “

“Oh, no, no. Nothing to do with that at all. This is quite… It is a different matter altogether.”

The Council’s meeting room was elegant in its simplicity. Looking at it, one could almost forget that the building itself has a gaping hole on the right west wing from where a bomb had detonated. There were about twenty seats, twelve of which were designated for the each of the appointed officials from each district representing their people.

At that moment, there was only President Paylor together with Cressida and Pollux in attendance. It was not a Council meeting then, Effie deduced quickly.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Effie asked Cressida once she had taken a seat.

“I don’t. Do you?”

She shook her head.

Once the pleasantries were taken out of the way, President Paylor delved straight into the heart of the matter for which Effie was grateful.

“My government will be setting up a committee and we would like you to be a part of it.”

Effie took it to mean that she was being ordered to be a part of it. Perhaps it was all the years of experience working under President Snow but she really could not imagine refusing the president.

Still, she glanced at Plutarch’s direction but he sat there, flipping through the pages of his notebook contemplatively.

“The committee will be responsible for the arenas,” Paylor went on. “Each of those arenas as we all know was preserved, each one of them from the very first.”

“Yes,” Effie affirmed.

 This was common knowledge.

Those arenas were tourist attraction spots. Capitol children and teenagers _loved_ them – the re-enactments, the pretend play they could have…. There were numerous supposedly ‘romantic’ Capitol proposals that had happened in the very cave where Katniss and Peeta had hid in during the 74 th Games.

“Titus Clemens is talking,” Plutarch informed, speaking for the very first time since they stepped into the room.

Effie shifted her gaze towards him.

Clemens was Head of the Capitol Tourism Board. Each year after the Games, the arena would be handed to him for his team to clean up, have any additional elements they deemed fit to attract tourists added, and re-decorate certain spots where tributes had died before it was open to the public.

Effie recalled her nephew telling her after his visit to one of the arenas that the same brick the victor of that year had used to bludgeon the other to death had been placed at the exact spot, dry crusted blood and all. There was a human dummy, similar to those in the Training Centre, and for a fee, visitors could re-enact the scene by purchasing a brick and bludgeoning said dummy repeatedly in the skull. Finnick, if she remembered, had been thoroughly disgusted when he learnt about it from one of his clients.

“He is willing to work with us,” Plutarch added.

“Work with us…? And what will he be willing to do exactly?” Effie asked.

She wanted to know what this ‘committee’ was being set up to do and why the arenas were suddenly brought up.

“To destroy it all, of course,” President Paylor said. “His team are well-adverse with the maintenance of the arena and he is willing to give up names of his crew members to assist us with taking the arena apart. It will be unwise to go in blind so his cooperation will be beneficial.”

“Mutually beneficial, I supposed,” Cressida chimed in. “He wouldn’t talk if there wasn’t something in it for him. I know Titus - the arenas are his pride and joy. Sometimes he acted as if he had a hand in designing it in the first place.”

“That arrangement is classified,” President Paylor interjected. “There are arenas that have been out of commissioned and shut off from public – old arenas, mostly from the first twenty years of the Games. Do you know where these arenas are located, Miss Trinket?”

“I have no knowledge,” Effie answered.

The earliest arena she had ever visited was from the 35th games and even that went out of style by the time she turned ten.

“No matter,” Plutarch closed his notebook together, “Titus knows where they are. The tourism board kept records of each location of the arena. We should be able to retrieve it.”

“That is all well and good but what does this have to do with me?”

“Here is where it gets interesting,” Plutarch took it upon himself to explain. “You should be the face of it. You are the last living escort, the last public person connected with the Games.”

“As are you,” she couldn’t help but point out.

“Yes, yes,” the man nodded with a placating smile. “However, my appointment as Secretary of Communications is quite demanding.”

It was clear that he thought _she_ had nothing better to do with her time, unlike him.

“Which is why, Effie, I am delegating the job to you. I have the utmost faith that you will see to the completion of this to the best of your ability. Besides….”

Here, she assumed, would be the icing on the cake.

“The symbolism of it… Just consider it for a second – the Escort destroying the arenas. It is too good a chance to pass up to just any other person, yes? It would certainly do your reputation some good, Effie.”

Next to her, Pollux was silently shaking his head at just how cringe-worthy it all sounded.

“They know I am with the Mockingjay.  Everyone knows,” she argued. “I was imprisoned for it.”

“Of course, of course,” Plutarch pacified. The mention of her time in Capitol’s prison had always made him uncomfortable and Effie would like to think that his conscious was eating away at him for strongly suggesting to Haymitch that she would have no place in District Thirteen which of course, led to Haymitch firmly believing that she would be safer here in the Capitol instead of being a target to President Coin for having nothing to offer. “It wouldn’t hurt to firmly seal that position and show them that you are really on _their_ side.”

“I have nothing to prove and certainly not to any of these people,” Effie retorted.

“No, not to prove to anyone,” Cressida laid a hand on her arm, speaking to her gently. “Let Plutarch think that way, let him have the symbolism he wants from appointing you but wouldn’t you like to personally see all of these arenas destroyed for _them_ , for the people that have been made a victim from it? You can do this on their behalf, Effie.”

Effie fell silent. Cressida’s words had a ring of truth in it. She could do this for her victors except….

“They’re still alive… The few that still are… “Effie lifted her head then looking at President Paylor and Plutarch in turn. “I cannot in good conscience take this liberty away from them so the remaining living victors should have a say in this too. If they want to take apart the arena, they should do it. Not me. I imagine Johanna Mason would jump at the chance to destroy the arena that destroyed her life. That is my condition if you want me to oversee this … project.”

“That is a fair request,” President Paylor acquiesced.

“I quite agree,” Plutarch added. “You will reach out to the victors, won’t you?”

“Do you have anyone else in mind to be the one to reach out to them?” Effie raised an eyebrow. “I thought so. Oh, another condition – I will not have any contact with Titus Clemens.”

At this point, it was self-preservation. She thought it was best to stay away from anyone who used to work for President Snow, even if they were now cooperating with President Paylor.

Outside of the Parliament, as she waited for the construction crane to back out of the road, Effie lit up a cigarette.

“Victor’s Village is banned from any sort of filming. So, we need to work something out, see how we want to play this,” Cressida said, coming down the steps next to her.

“We will, but for now, I would like to go home.”

 


	2. Seven's Victor

  1. **Seven’s Victor**



With careful precision, Effie arranged the fresh flowers she just bought on her way home in the vase. The mixture of pastel pink and white filled her heart with ease and the sweet scent made her forget of the dusty smell of concrete from the numerous constructions she passed by.

Months after the war, there were still parts of the Capitol that were still being rebuilt. The first priority was to build the residential area and provide the residents with the necessary amenities, and slowly, the rebuilding moved inwards towards the city centre.

A small part of her was looking forward to the end product. She wanted to see what this city where she grew up would soon look like.

With a glass of wine in one hand and the vase in the other, Effie walked towards the modest sitting room. She placed the vase on the coffee table and her gaze fell on the phone.

She stared at the phone, a sudden thought flitting through her mind.

She had not thought about Haymitch in weeks, a task that proved to be arduous but one that she told herself needed to be done except now, he was back in her thoughts. She wanted to share the events in Parliament with him. She wanted to hear his opinions and pick his brains on the best way to deal with this. Effie was certain that he would have a thing or two to say about it.

The only problem was the small fact that they were not talking.

Haymitch had always been the cornerstone in her life.  Effie was young when he first came into the picture. She was ten year old when Haymitch Abernathy was crowned a Victor and from then on, he had _always_ been there – in the magazines she bought in secret and kept hidden from her mother, in the posters she kept rolled up in her closet, in the small toy figurines that had nearly made Haymitch choked in surprise when he found it in her possession – long before she even became his escort.

After her appointment as Twelve’s escort, there was no escaping him.

Until the war.

She had avoided him and he had avoided her. Moving back halfway across the country to District Twelve had certainly helped them in the case.

There were no more Games. The Games was what connected them together after all.

The phone rang loudly, breaking her thoughts and startling her.

“Hello, Effie Trinket speaking.”

“I bloody well hope so,” the voice grumbled. “If someone else had answered when I call your place, I’m going to have to send someone to investigate if you’re dead or something.”

“There really is no need to be this dramatic, Johanna,” Effie sighed but pleased to hear her friend’s voice.

“You didn’t call - I was waiting,” Johanna accused. “What’s the deal then? Why were you summoned to the Parliament? What’d they want?”

“I’ve only just got home.”

Effie settled on the sofa and took a sip of her wine. Her mind went back to the meeting earlier, wondering just how much she was able to tell Johanna. It made sense that news of this should not reach the public _yet_ not until everything has been confirmed but she had been the one to suggest that the victors get a say in it and Plutarch had left it all up to her to talk to them.

Which meant….

“You’re fucking serious? There’s an order to have all of them wiped out?” Johanna asked. “About damn time except I’m a bit mad that I didn’t think of this first. What the fuck, right? I fucking forgot about those fucking arenas.”

“There are a lot on our plates after the war,” Effie said kindly. “Do keep this to yourself first – it is not public knowledge. I have only just told you.”

“Alright. What about the others? You’re telling the victors, right?”

It would be within Effie’s right to inform the victors and if she had been tasked to supervise with it, she would call the shots. Where the victors were concern, there weren’t many of them. They were a small circle and they should know it first before the public, it was only right.

 “I was hoping that you would break it _gently_ to Annie.”

“I don’t think she would want to be a part of it. Annie’s all about leaving the past where it belongs and now with the baby, she just wants to spend time with him, you know?”

Effie didn’t think that Annie would want to either but it was better to give her the option nonetheless.

“And you?”

“Fuck yes,” Johanna exclaimed. “You’d think I’ll pass up the chance for a last ‘fuck you’ to the Capitol?”

“The Capitol is gone, Johanna. What is here is – “

“Don’t kid yourself. It’s not all gone until every last one of those arenas are gone and until every last person who worked for Snow for the Games is in jail… or better still, dead.”

Effie listened and tried not to feel offended or slighted by Johanna’s words considering that she had once worked for President Snow but she was sure Johanna had preclude her from that group now, after what they both suffered in prison.

“Johanna…” Effie cut in when she paused to take a breath, “I was thinking that since Annie would not want to take part in hers and since you and Finnick were close that you might want to represent them.”

“Represent them? What’s that mean?”

“It means you get to destroy their arena in their stead.”

“Right… Yes, I think that’s good. I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Effie nodded, noting it down in her book.

In two days, she would be meeting with Cressida and Pollux to discuss which aspect they would want to include in their film and she thought it might be prudent to have some semblance of direction with the project before the meeting.

“You talked to Haymitch yet? Not about this in particular but you called him about… anything?”

“I have not.”

“You’re going to have to call him eventually to talk to him about this.”

“I might send him a letter instead,” Effie answered simply.

Johanna scoffed. “This is stupid. One day, you’re going to have to face him.”

“I know,” Effie hummed, not really wanting to give much thought to that. “How is he?”

“Don’t know. Surviving, I bet.”

Effie was quiet, mulling the implication of that but not for long. Clearly, the thought of being able to destroy something seemed to excite Johanna more than Effie’s troubles with Haymitch for her to be bothered too much by her silence.

"How are we going to do it? I get a say on how I want the arena I was in destroyed, right? Of course I fucking get a say," Johanna snorted. "I won't have you telling me how to do it. I'm thinking.... a few C4 here and there, axe down a thing or two. Should be fun," she chuckled darkly.

"If that is how you want to do it, I have no objections. We will have a demolition team so I will run it by them," Effie said and then paused thoughtfully. "Johanna... Destroying it aside, have you _truly_ thought of what it would feel like to step back there? If it's too much - "

"Shut up, Trinket," Johanna grumbled. "I'm doing it. That arena has kept me up at night so you are not going to try and talk me out of it."

"I'm not. I am just concerned that - "

"Don't be. I can deal with my _feelings_ ," she spat the word out.

Victors, she learnt, were delicate people. Push them too hard and they might react quite violently; treat them gently and they would likely feel insulted. It was a line she had learnt to balance with Haymitch, and now again, with Johanna so she knew to back down.

"Very well."

"Oh, damn," Johanna cackled suddenly. "You're going to have to talk to Enobaria. Tell me how _that_ goes."

If Johanna was in front of her, she would have seen Effie silently shaking her head in exasperation.

"Perhaps, I will write her a letter too."

“That's boring. I need something fun, Trinket," Johanna said. "Why don't you come over, huh? The kid is looking a little less like a naked mole rat by the day."

"Johanna!"

"What I’m saying is he’s looking more like a _baby_ and you should come see.”

As appalled as she was by Johanna's description of Annie's child, she could read between the lines what Johanna wasn't saying. She wanted a friend there, someone other than Annie, who by now, would have spent every waking moment occupied by Finn and was using the boy to mask it.

"I will soon," Effie promised, "but I have... I have this going on now and once things have settled I will visit."

"Bring gifts for the baby and sexy dresses for me," Johanna demanded. "I can hear him crying. I have to go."

"Send my love to Annie and Finn."

There was an unintelligible grunt from Johanna's end before she said, "You be careful. You're walking around armed, right?"

Johanna had given her a pocket knife when Effie confided in her that someone might have been following her back during the days when she had been giving statements. Nothing had happened to her thankfully and she had since dismissed that incident as her being paranoid.

"Always armed," Effie assured.

"Okay," Johanna said.

In seconds and without much fuss, the phone clicked before Effie could say a proper goodbye. She went back to her wine, content to let the day slipped into the night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one to set the ball rolling and a little insight of hayffie post-mj :) thank you for leaving your reviews in the first chapter, guys! do the same for this one !
> 
> see you next week :)


	3. Worn Down

**3\. Worn Down**

Effie dragged the small writing table over to the window, wincing at the sound as it scratched against the floor. Walking back to the kitchen, she took her cup of tea and placed it carefully on the corner of the table before parting the blinds. For a moment, the sight of the twinkling stars in the night sky distracted her.

For the next few hours, Effie poured over the paperwork that Plutarch had delivered earlier from deep within the tourism board's archive. In her book, there was a list of all the names of tributes lost in each Games plus the name of all the victors. The list was importance since memorials to the hundreds of lives lost to the Games would be constructed in place of the arena at a later date.

On the wall next to the window, Effie had tacked a map. She had painstakingly marked every single arena that ever existed. It was spread all over the place, across mountains, seas, forests and deserts.

It made her think of the civilisations that existed at each of these places decades ago before the land emptied out, leaving it ripe for the Capitol to construct death dome for children.

It made her think of the planning that went into the Games after the Dark Days; that there was likely a group of men and women sitting around a table discussing about sending district children as punishment. Her thoughts wandered to recent events, picturing Katniss and Peeta, Johanna and Annie, Enobaria and Beetee, and Haymitch with Coin discussing the exact same thing.

She shuddered and took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand.

Currently, the plan was to destroy the arena in chronological order which made it easier since there were no living victors for the 1st to the 10th arena. This meant that the arenas could be destroyed without much affair. The 11th arena was Mags' Games... but if Johanna were to destroy the arena on behalf of Finnick and Annie, she should extend the same courtesy to Haymitch. Mags was his mentor after all.

She wrote Haymitch's name next to the 11th arena, circled it in bright red pen and placed a big question mark on it. She did the same for the 50th arena.

Until now, she had still not spoken to Haymitch, Katniss or Peeta on the matter. When Peeta had called her a week ago, like he was accustomed to, Effie said nothing about the plans.

She thought she knew why. A part of her felt that she was due for a visit in District Twelve and that this was the perfect excuse to do so, not that she needed an excuse to visit the children but where Haymitch was concern... She was certain he would be wary if she dropped by for no rhyme or reason.

It took her less than a day to pack since she did not plan to stay long in Twelve. Needing a day to just sit on her decision while convincing herself it was better to deliver the news to them personally out of courtersy, it was only two days later that she made her way to the other side of the country.

Effie alighted from the train, noting immediately the smell in the air. It no longer smelt of coal dust. It was …  _fresher_ and lighter, and she took it as a positive sign of the direction District Twelve was heading to months after the war.

She made the slow walk from the station to Victor's Village, her eyes sweeping through what was once before a familiar scenery but was no longer as such. She had to stop and ask for directions twice before she finally saw the recognizable wrought iron gates in the distance. If everything around them was changing, the same could not be said about Victors' Village.

Crossing the threshold of the Village, amongst the first thing she heard was the squawking of geese.

 _Peculiar_ , she thought until of course, she remembered that Peeta had mentioned off-hand once that he had to feed the geese and when asked, he explained they were Haymitch's pets.

Her gaze strayed towards the house with its dark painted exterior. She had memories there; moments just before a reaping when Haymitch had pushed her against the kitchen counter or the wall and kissed her because he missed her, moments when she had willingly surrendered because she had missed him just as much. Her heart ached at those memories.

Effie veered right, walking up towards another house. When she knocked on the door, she fully expected to be greeted by Katniss  _not_  come face to face with Haymitch Abernathy. It threw her off-guard momentarily. He stared hard at her and she stared at him before she quickly gathered herself and offered him a conciliatory smile.

She was not here to argue or bring up the past or start  _anything_. She was on the job, or so she kept telling herself.

"Is… Katniss in? Or Peeta?"

"Yeah, the boy's here. Come in," he grumbled, stepping back to let her pass. "He'll have my balls if I let you just stand there."

"Language," she clicked her tongue.

Following the sound in the kitchen, Effie deduced that Peeta must be there and made her way over, very acutely aware of Haymitch following her from behind.

"No luggage?"

"I won't be here for long," she answered, glancing briefly over her shoulder at him.

"Right. Guess who's here, boy."

Peeta turned, hand covered in flour. His eyes widened at the sight of her and in seconds, he crossed the kitchen over to her and enveloped her in a hug.

"You should have called!" he chided and then laughed a little when he realised he had transferred flour to her dress. "Sorry about your dress," he smiled sheepishly, "but you _should_  have called. I could have picked you up at the train station or I could get Haymitch to."

"I ain't your dog," Haymitch scowled to which they both pretended not to hear.

"I could have made your favourite pastries."

"That is precisely the reason I did not call," Effie said. "I do not wish to trouble any of you."

"Good," Haymitch muttered.

"Haymitch," Peeta warned but he pulled a chair and ushered Effie towards it. "I'll make a plate for you. We're about to have lunch but we're just waiting for Katniss to return from her hunt."

While she was aware that Peeta had more or less moved in with Katniss, it was still something to see him so familiar in her kitchen. The kitchen was his and he worked with ease, same as Haymitch who lounged on the chair across from her, his legs propped on an empty chair.

Her gaze darted to him briefly but he was not paying her any attention, too busy as he was pouring himself a glass of whiskey and wine for her. At the end of the table, near the wall was a bound book which she assumed was the same Katniss was slowly working on, filling in the details of past tributes.

She chose not to dwell on it, even though she was here on the same vein. It seemed the past could never escape them.

"How is your bakery – "

"Why are you here?" Haymitch cut in.

He had always been direct, refusing to hide behind small talks and polite niceties. He pushed the glass of wine in her direction.

Taking a sip of the drink, she said, "Perhaps it will be more prudent to wait for Katniss. This concerns her too."

"It sounds serious," Peeta frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything will be explained soon but there's no cause for concern," Effie said in a placating manner.

Haymitch merely remained seated, watching her so Effie took it upon herself to assist Peeta in serving them all the stew from the pot. They heard the front door open just as Peeta removed the loaf from the oven. The heavy footsteps drew closer until it stopped completely. Effie glanced up and smiled. Setting down the bowl in front of Haymitch, she met Katniss halfway, hugging the girl fiercely.

"Oh, I do miss you," Effie whispered. "All of you."

She meant it too, Haymitch included. Regardless of the manner in which they had parted, she had known him the longest and the months apart had made her missed his company.

"Then you should visit us more," Katniss pointed out.

They caught up over lunch, exchanging stories and anecdotes of post-war rebuilding in District Twelve and in the City. She was glad to know that the bakery was doing well and that Katniss was helping him out where she could. For the most part, Haymitch kept to himself, finishing off the whole bottle of whiskey by the time they were done.

"Do you plan on talking at all tonight or should we do all the talking for you?" Peeta teased.

Haymitch shot him a glare "I want to know why she's here. No phone calls, no letters and now suddenly, you're dropping by – must be something."

"I do call occasionally. It's just not you who I call."

Not wanting to derail the conversation into something volatile and bitter, Effie quickly retrieved the envelopes from her handbag and handed it over to each of them.

"I thought I would deliver this personally," she explained.

She watched them as they read the contents; the slight crease in Haymitch's brows, the stoic expression on Katniss' face and the look of puzzlement on Peeta's.

Haymitch was the first to finish. "Didn't know you're working for the government – can't seem to run away from them, can you?"

Effie pursed her lips, choosing instead to take the high road and let the remark slide. She was not here to argue. They had done plenty of that months before.

"You are in-charge of this?" Katniss asked.

"Yes. They called me in to spearhead the project."

"They could call anyone and yet they called you for  _this_ specifically…" Peeta commented

He was always sharp and quick, and it seemed that, it did not escape his notice that there might be something more to the reason  _she_  of all people was appointed.

"Well," she plastered a bright smile on her face. "As Plutarch would say it, I am the  _'last living escort'_  and the symbolism of it is too good to pass up."

"Bullshit," Haymitch spat. "He had no right to dangle that over your head. "

The smile faltered, and just like that she was beginning to doubt holding on to this anger she had for Haymitch. No matter where they are, no matter how long it had been, he was still in his own way, protective over her.

"I only agreed because I believe that each of the victors should be given a chance to see to it that their arena is destroyed. With me there, should you want it, you would have a say over it. You have a right to this, if nothing else."

She paused, letting this sink in.

"Johanna…." She smiled a little, remembering the young woman's enthusiasm. "She is already planning on what exactly to do with hers. It is almost scary to hear her plans."

"What about Annie?" Peeta asked, folding the letter back into the envelope. "I don't imagine she'd want to be there because  _I_  don't want to go back there. You'll have crew or something, right? I'll leave it to them."

"Johanna will take on Annie's and Finnick's arena on their behalves."

"I want to see it burn to the ground," Katniss said fiercely. "I'm going."

All eyes turned to Haymitch. He had always been with the Mockingjay. Whatever Katniss choses, he would always back it up. Still, this was different. They were not calling for a vote – the memory of which Effie had tried hard to scrub from her mind - and whether or not he agreed to be there, all those arenas including his will be destroyed.

"I ain't going back there," he declared. "I've got enough nightmares 'bout that hell-hole as it is."

"I understand," Effie nodded. "So it will be Katniss together with Johanna and Beetee."

"Beetee's going?" Haymitch asked.

"Only to watch. Katniss…. It won't be easy," Effie warned. "The Capitol has turned the arena into -

"Some entertainment?" Katniss asked snidely. "Don't they always twist everything for their pleasure?"

XxX

The garden was small and modest but the love and care that went into it was evident. She spotted primroses and lilies. At the corner of her eye, she noticed a creature prowling and turned to see Buttercup. She wasn't aware that Katniss still kept the cat but she supposed, since they both loved Prim, it made sense to.

The sound of footsteps crunching against the earth made her pause. She knew it was him even before she turned around.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted, propping a hand on the fence casually as he watched her.

"Haymitch."

"What's your plan with the arenas?"

Effie bit her bottom lip before letting out a breath. This was a safe topic as any between them.

"We will begin demolition in two weeks' time, starting with first arena. I – I thought that perhaps you might want to destroy Mag's arena. She was your mentor, after all."

He tipped the silver flask back, licking his lip to catch a drop of whiskey that escape. Effie averted her gaze.

"But, of course, I understand your decision."

"Chaff's?"

"I was going to offer it to you as well," she answered.

She was going to but he made it abundantly clear that he had no desire to step into his arena and she assumed that the aversion extended to the other arenas as well.

"You doing okay?" he asked out of the blue.

"I didn't think you'd care."

He exhaled in frustration, gripping the flask tighter. "Does it have to take  _this_  to get us to talk again? The fucking arenas…. It's the only damn reason you're even here in the first place or I wouldn't be seeing you at all."

"You could have tried to keep in touch," Effie couldn't help the retort.

"I could. Would you have answered my calls or write me back?"

He had a point but still, he didn't  _try_. He left the Capitol and he left her, and then nothing but if he had tried to call or write….

"I would eventually when I'm worn down."

She fished the cigarette from the pocket of her bag and lighted up, drawing in a breath shakily. This was not a conversation she was prepared for.

"I don't want you worn down," he growled. "That's not - Look, Effie, we said some mean shit to the other but – "

She turned to him, raising her eyebrows.

"- I don't mean any of it."

"I do," she whispered quietly. "I wished I had never met you."

That struck a nerve in him. She watched the way his jaws clenched, the flash of something violent and furious in his eyes and then he simply… settled. He fixed his gaze on her and the calm on his face made the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

"I'll do it. What you came here for… I'll do it. Put my name on it, Trinket."

Effie spun, startled at his sudden change of mind. The cigarette dangled between her fingers and Haymitch smirked as he took a sip from his flask. Surprising her and catching her off-guard had always been his favourite thing.

"You said you will never step foot in the arena."

"I said I will never step foot in mine," he corrected. "I'll do it for Mags' and Chaff's and I'll do it for all the others who aren't here no more. I trust you, sweetheart, but I want to see for myself that every single fucking arena is gone."

"I – "

"Besides," he shifted his weight, "I don't imagine Plutarch's against that. He's attaching some warped meaning by specifically appointing you, yeah? The last escort destroying something the Capitol created… I'm a Victor, sweetheart, shouldn't I be there for those who can't?"

"I only came to invite you for the 50th arena, together with Mags' and Chaff's. I do not need you for all… There are seventy-five of them," she said and the slight panic in her voice was telling. She was not prepared to have him as a representative for the victors for the duration of this project. "You are not… part of the team."

"I'm always part of  _your_  team, Effie," he whispered in her ear and the rare use of her name send a shiver running through her. "You haven't forgotten that, have you? You want me to wear you down… I'll wear you down."

"And what will happen when we get to  _your_  arena?" Effie demanded, clearly clutching at straws by this point in time.

"I'll cross the bridge when I get to it but for now, get excited about working with me again," he winked and her blood rushed at the audacity of it.

"I hate you."

His laughter echoed as he retreated back into Katniss' house, and from the window, she could see him getting on the phone no doubt to call Plutarch.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Effie went down to Twelve and our hayffie met, finally. What do you think of Haymitch changing his mind? Or what is it that caused a wedge between them? Let me know in the reviews!


	4. The Old Colleague

  1. **The Old Colleague**



For the second time that day, Effie checked her watch as she hurried down the third floor corridor of the Parliament that Plutarch had so graciously given to her for the duration of the project.

Inwardly, she cursed Enobaria for being the reason she was running late.

The phone call Effie had placed to the victor of District Two had been disastrous from start to finish.  For starters, Enobaria had not been pleased _at all_ that Effie had her contact details much less knowledge that she had moved to District Five.  Of course, Effie had tried to explain that any information pertaining to her whereabouts she received from Plutarch which in itself was a mistake because the woman blew her top, going off about being tagged even after President Snow had fallen. Truthfully, Effie did not think there was any surveillance on any living victors except that the Government kept information on where they were currently residing.

Effie was not easily intimidated not even by a woman with fangs but she did grow _tired_ of being on the receiving end of her tirade. When Enobaria finally slammed the phone down after Effie managed to get a word in regarding the arena, Effie let out a breath in relief. She took Enobaria’s _‘do not ever call me again or I’ll rip your throat out’_ to simply mean ‘no’.

Some people just wanted to live in peace without being dragged down memory lane and she could certainly respect that.

Effie pushed open the door to the meeting room and hurried in, quickly noting that nearly everyone was present, including Barron Holland, the leader of their demolition team. She nodded at each of them in turn, apologising for being late.

“I was not expecting you here, Plutarch,” Effie remarked.

“Oh, just the off-chance that I was around the area and as it is I also have some excellent news to share,” Plutarch smiled. “Haymitch Abernathy will be joining the team. I have since officially appoint him as representative of the victors as a whole.”

If Effie was the kind to groan outwardly in displeasure, she might have done so. The only indication that she was in any way affected by the news was by the slight clench of her jaws.

“From my visit to Twelve a few days ago, I had the notion that he might be,” Effie said when Cressida turned to look at her questioningly. “He said something to the effect of wanting to see the destruction of the arena through.”

“Perhaps he does not trust us to do the job,” Plutarch chuckled. “But be that as it may, it will make for a good publicity.”

“No,” Effie disagreed firmly on that. “This will be difficult on the victors as it is. We do not need to make a spectacle out of it. Cressida and Pollux will film what is necessary for their post-war documentary with the interest of preserving this as part of our country’s history – that is all and nothing more.”

A murmur of assent rippled through the room, and Barron who came from a district seconded her decision for which she was grateful.

“It is too short a notice for Haymitch to attend this meeting but I trust that you will keep him updated?” Plutarch said in a clipped tone.

“Yes, certainly,” Effie nodded. “Plutarch, I need your word that there will be no camera crews except for Cressida and Pollux when each of these victors arrives in the city. If the public noticed that they are here so be it, this project would hit the papers soon enough, but I will not have them hounded by the press. I gave them my word and now I need yours.”

Plutarch, she noticed, looked as if he had swallowed something sour. It was not every day that he was talked to in this manner by anyone, much less her but those victors are hers and she would protect them while they were here to the best of her ability.

 “Of course,” Plutarch bowed before excusing himself from the meeting.

“That went better than expected,” Cressida commented.

“Yes, I am glad he did not argue on it. He controls the media and if I do not draw the lines….”

They spent the next half an hour going through the procedures with Effie giving Cressida full creative control on her plan for the documentary.  From Cressida’s history with the victors, Effie trust that she would have their best interests at heart and thus gave her permission to interview the victors as long as they consented to it.

“The hovercraft should leave for the first arena as scheduled,” their pilot updated. “We’re planning for two arenas per day. If any of the arenas are situated close to each other, the plan is to do more – at which point, I will advise you accordingly.”

Effie nodded.

“We’re on track,” Barron chimed in. “My team is ready, and the explosives are stocked.”

“Haymitch should arrive before then,” said Cressida.

“He will,” Effie assured.

That was another thing she needed to arrange. He would need some place to stay and she certainly was not going to offer the extra room in her apartment to him.

XxX

Haymitch arrived one day before the day the first arena was scheduled to be destroyed. He hopped off the train with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his hair messy from the wind and his clothes a little rumpled from the journey, and just like that, at the sight of him, her heart skipped a beat.

She hated how traitorous her heart was.

“Sweetheart,” he greeted, his smile was cocky and smug as if he won something just by being _here_.

Still, she was not an idiot. On any other circumstances, Haymitch Abernathy would not have been happy to have to set foot back here in the city but since he was here on some personal challenge that he had set for himself, and because he knew _she_ really did not want him here, she figured it was the exception.

“Haymitch,” she said cordially. “I never thought I’d say this but welcome back.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“I’ll be gone as soon as it’s done," he said and then looked her way. "And you'll be coming home with me this time 'round."

He was so certain, so confident but Effie said nothing to that.

She spent the entire car ride staring out of the window wondering just how he was acting as if the argument they had on the day he brought Katniss home didn’t happen. That scene was still fresh in her mind even after all these months, and she could remember how hurt she felt when she found out he was leaving her again or worse, the betrayal that twisted in her heart when she learnt of his vote.

The feelings had dulled with time and she had months to think it through. Haymitch had never done anything without a reason, she understood that. Still, he could at least have told it herself instead of her finding out from Johanna.

 _You forgave Johanna,_ a voice whispered. _She voted yes._

Except of course, Johanna didn’t leave her behind _twice_ and because of their history, she somehow held Haymitch up to a certain degree that she did not impose on Johanna.  With Haymitch, it was the cumulative events and she had been exhausted, hurting and angry.

“You excited?”

“What about?” Effie turned her gaze to him.

“Working together again – you and I.”

“Could it be that the position has reversed?” she asked, referring to years before when _she_ had been eager to work together with him.

He narrowed his eyes and she went back to staring out of the window until they reached their destination.

"What's Clemens getting outta this?"

"I am not privy to the details," she answered truthfully, "but he has run out of favours and I'm certain he knows it will be in his best interest to cooperate. Now," she turned to him just outside of the door of the place he would be staying for the coming weeks or months, "are you completely sure that you want to do this?"

She was still trying her luck to dissuade him but he had always been as stubborn as her.

"Yeah."

With that, Effie turned the key and pushed the door open.  She had managed to rent the place on a short notice and billed the expenses to the project's finances. Considering that she did not have much time to look around, she was still proud of this place. It came completely furnished, granted the furniture were a little mismatched from her taste but one cannot really be choosy right after the war. There was one bedroom and an adjoining kitchen. The living room had a two-seater sofa, coffee table and small television.

He let his bag fall to the floor with a thud and surveyed the place.

“You'll be staying here until the end of this project. The faucet in the bathroom sink is not working unfortunately, a burst pipe or something," she waved her hand and she had used that little fact to ask for a reduced rent. She could be very adamant when she wanted to. "Other than that, everything works as it should be. I trust it is to your liking?”

“I'll stock up a couple bottle of booze and everything will be right as rain,” he shrugged.  “You'll tell me where I can get the alcohol, yeah? This place's changed."

She produced a map of the neighbourhood and he smirked.

"Always prepared," he chuckled, taking the proffered map from her. "Where are _you_ staying?”

Effie held her tongue and then duly released the information to him. Sooner or later, he would find out.

"There," her finger tapped an area on the map, "about ten minutes' walk from here."

"So that it'll be easier for you to come over and haul my ass out of bed in case I'm late?" He teased.

That had certainly been one of the points she considered when choosing this place but she merely smiled at him.

“You want me to walk you back?” he asked, startling her.

“I will be fine. Thank you for the offer.”

Haymitch sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Don't do this, Effie. Don't talk to me like... I'm a stranger."

She looked away and that was when she saw the glint of gold under the sleeve of his shirt. It was the bangle she had given him during the third quarter quell and he was still wearing it after all this time, even when he had no reason to.

"See you tomorrow, Haymitch. Nine am. Do not be late."

With that, Effie closed the door behind her and let out a trembling breath.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haymitch isn't the only one who can be protective. Effie can be protective over her victors just as well. Now that they're both here in the same place, tell me what you think!


	5. One Down

**5\. One Down**

Sunlight filtered through the window, its rays reflecting off the vase on the counter and on to the kitchen ceiling in bright glittering lights. Effie hummed pleasantly, confident that today will go according to schedule.

Her mind wandered off to Haymitch in his apartment, wondering if he had woken up or if she should give him a call just in case. Deciding that he was adult enough and should behave as such without her mothering him for simple things such as waking up on time, Effie washed her cup of coffee and left the house.

A minute to nine, just when she was certain that he would be late for his first day, Haymitch walked into the meeting room.

He gave her a nod, and having recognised Pollux and Cressida, went over to shake their hands. It was only after that Effie made the necessary introductions to the rest of the team. He got into a conversation with Barron right away regarding the controlled demolition on the arena.

Boarding the hovercraft fifteen minutes later, it was to her no surprise that he flopped down on the seat directly across from her.

He grinned and watched her give the papers in front of her one last study.

"Pretty sure you've memorised everything on that paper by heart already, sweetheart," he remarked.

She had, naturally. She would have said something too except something out of the window caught her attention. The hovercraft had just flown out of the Capitol's airspace and into a territory that only the pilot and tributes of the first hunger games have seen on their way to the arena.

The view distracted both of them enough. Effie marveled at the sight, scooting forward in her seat to get a closer view.

From up in the sky, the view was beautiful. To see stretch of lands untouched by the destruction of war was a welcomed sight after months of walking down streets filled with rubble and circumventing collapsed buildings in the City Centre.

"That ain't something you see every day," he said.

She agreed, looking up with a smile. He returned her smile easily enough. There was a time a malicious sneer directed her way was a permanent fixture on his face. Even after they began to learn to work with one another, he did not smile often, and later on, sometimes only when they were alone together. But each time he smiled, she always thought it softened his features considerably just like now.

When he started frowning a second later, Effie started suspecting that something was wrong. He pulled the map in front of her, looking at it closely and then out of the window.

"The forcefield is still up," he said, tapping his finger on the window in the direction of a glimmering dome in the distance. "That's the first."

"It is but it will be disabled soon from the control room," she explained. "We have a team there to monitor."

"You told me the arena hasn't been a tourist hotspot for years, so why's the forcefield still up?"

"For preservation," she answered. "To keep people out, in case anyone had any ideas of fleeing the districts and squatting in the arena."

Haymitch snorted. "That'll be quite the journey."

Another hovercraft was already site since the demolition team had arrived ahead of them to set up the charges.

The arena of the first Hunger Games was a large, plain field of grass with the Cornucopia located in the centre. It was simple and quite boring by Capitol standards but it was the first. The Capitol's design became more extravagant and the traps more brutal as the years went by. The starting platforms were just white circles which would later evolve to contain mines and launch pods.

"Nothing impressive," Haymitch noted.

While neither of them had been around to see the first few Games Effie had actually seen footages of it during her training as an escort.

Since the hovercraft landed, Cressida and Pollux had begun filming. They had taken a few shots of the arena, noting the year of the Games and the location.

Effie stood at the edge of the arena, by one of the platforms, exchanging a few words with Cressida. By the time she turned around, Haymitch was gone from her side, wandering off to where the Cornucopia was.

She knew what he would find. Instead of weapons, there was a long table

"Tourists dined here," Haymitch muttered in disgust.

He took in the sight of plates, cutleries and menus.

Back then when she was younger, she had not thought that there was anything wrong with that but now, the very idea of dining where kids were sent to compete to their death made her stomach churn.

"My grandmother used to say that the food was excellent," Effie recalled in a whisper.

Haymitch shot her a look. Exiting the Cornucopia, he walked further down until he came upon a marker buried on the ground. It was marked as '4' and the name of the tribute that died on that particular spot was on it.

"He was the fourth tribute to... to die in the bloodbath," Effie explained the meaning behind the marked number.

"What happens after we blow this up? Will Edmure Sterling be forgotten?"

"The plan is to have a memorial constructed within the confines of each arena. We will have the names of all the fallen children. It is all we can do, the best we can give."

Haymitch said nothing.

When Barron gave the signal, Haymitch grabbed her by the elbow and steered her away until they were out of the marked danger zone. They were each given ear muffs, and as Pollux filmed it, Haymitch and Effie watched the control explosion.

"One down," Haymitch said, "seventy-four more to go."

They took off again with Barron and his crew flying ahead, over the great blue sea. She didn't think she had ever been this far off from the Capitol before even when she had visited some arenas as a child but geography had never been her strongest suit. Effie watched the sceneries again.

Across from her, Haymitch was strangely quiet. The silver flask was held loosely in his hand. His head was thrown back against the seat, his grey eyes fixed at a point above her head, so very clearly lost in his own thoughts. She wondered what was going through his mind, the things he was thinking about.

"Are you alright?" She ventured to ask.

His gaze flitted to her and with a grunt he pushed himself up, bringing the flask to his lips. He gave a non-committal answer and Effie let it drop, knowing him well by now that if he did not want to talk about it, nothing she said will change his mind.

The second arena was in the middle of the ocean on a platform the Capitol had built.

"People used to visit while on a cruise vacation," Effie informed, not knowing what compelled her to share that bit of knowledge because she was sure  _nobody_  was interested.

"You been?" Cressida asked. "On a cruise..."

Effie gave a slight shake of her head. "I've never been on a ship."

"My brother and his wife did," Cressida went on, "for their third honeymoon. I never got the chance to ask them how it was."

"Why's that?" Haymitch asked.

"They were taken right after, saw something that spooked them and made the stupid mistake of speaking out. Never saw any of them again."

Effie exchanged a glance with Haymitch, both thinking of the same thing. None of them knew the reason Cressida left the Capitol when her career as film director was going so well, but now, they could guess at it.

This time, Haymitch did not bother venturing into the arena. He hung around near the hovercraft, drinking and watching as she walked the arena with Barron as he explained where he would be placing the charges.

"We're going to sink the whole damn thing," he chuckled. "Place the charges on the platform structure. It'll collapse and goodbye arena."

"The hell we doing?" Haymitch muttered crossly when Effie ushered him back to the hovercraft. "Arena's not blown up yet."

"We have to be up in the air," she told him simply.

In the hovercraft, Cressida was in her element, giving multiple directions to Pollux on the best angle to capture the event. Haymitch stood next to her, watching the arena grow smaller as the ascended in the air and then, the ocean rippled.

He staggered back instinctively only to stand where he did before just in time to see the arena broke in three different directions as the pillar structure beneath it collapsed. It splashed into the ocean, sending sprays of water up in the air.

He surprised her when he started laughing. Shaking her head in amusement at his behaviour, Effie made a cross on her list. She had marked the spot where the second arena was on the map so that a memorial can be constructed. While she had no idea how that will be done especially so in the middle of the sea, she was sure they would all think of something.

It was late in the afternoon when they finally landed back in the City. Effie tried to stall, pretending she had to some papers to file in the office in the hopes that Haymitch would leave, but he took a seat on sofa in their meeting room and simply waited.

If he knew what she was doing, he didn't call her out of it. It was a game they were good at, to see who would cave first. This wasn't something she would win. She could try but eventually, she would have to leave so all he needed to do was sit and wait, and with a drink in hand he could wait for hours.

With a sigh, Effie closed the black ring file and placed it back on the meeting table for tomorrow.

"Let's go then," she finally turned to look at him.

They walked home together, mostly in silence, which made her wonder why he even bothered waiting for her to be done if he was not going to say anything... except, small talks had always been something  _she_  was good at, not him.

"The statue was unveiled just last month," she told him, needing to fill the silence between them with something.

"Yeah, I thought so. Wasn't there before the war."

She was almost relieved when they finally reached the intersection that would lead them in separate ways. Effie bade him goodbye, almost a little eagerly.

When she glanced over her shoulder to look at him, instead of walking straight ahead where his apartment would be, he had turned left.

Effie stopped, hurrying forward to meet him.

"You following me, sweetheart?"

"You're going in the wrong direction. Your apartment is - "

"I know where it is," he said. "I ain't going that way. Don't worry your pretty head. I spent years in the Capitol. A little change here and there ain't gonna make me lost. Go on then, head home."

"Where are you going?"

"There wasn't a park here before the war," he nodded his head in the direction of the park. "I'm just want to have a look around. You're welcome to join."

He left it simply at that and it infuriated her how Haymitch could make an invitation sound so casual and careless as if he did not care one way or another if she joined. He probably didn't, she figured, and despite her better judgment, Effie went after him.

Haymitch settled on an empty bench and chuckled to himself when she took a seat next to him. Uncapping his flask, he took a drink.

"Many places like this 'round the Capitol now?" He asked.

"There is one other park at the other side of the City. There could very well be one or two more once all of the rebuilding and construction are done here."

"Right," he nodded. "That lake will freeze when winter comes, now that you have winter," he said, noting that Beetee had removed the weather regulator in the Capitol. "You'll be able to skate there. You know how?"

"I have never really been on skates, unfortunately."

"I'll teach you one day," he commented off-hand. "Found a pair of old skates back when I was a boy, tried it on when my friends and I sneaked out to the woods. Taught myself how to, wasn't that difficult to pick up."

Just like that, she pictured the park with snow falling around them and imagined her hand in his as he led her around in circles. Perhaps one day, things would be okay between them for that to be possible or perhaps not. She truly didn't know.

"Are you talking to Katniss?"

"Yeah," he affirmed. "Have to call them every other day - that's the deal I made with Paylor before she allowed me to travel. You know, sweetheart," he angled his body slightly so that he was looking at her, "I don't think Paylor would have allowed me to leave Twelve – leave  _Katniss_ – if you have taken on this damn project a few months earlier."

There was truth in that. Katniss was much more stable now and growing more self-reliant the way she used to be. She left the house much more often; she hunted at the woods, she ate her meals when it was time to, she answered the phone when her doctor called and she assisted Peeta at the bakery. If anyone were to ask her, Effie would say that having Peeta returned to her was the turning point in her healing. Katniss felt that in some ways, she had to be there for him after everything. They needed each other.

"What happens if Peeta relapse?"

"Katniss knows to stay away," he answered. "We know –  _she_ knows – which trigger to avoid. He hasn't had an episode in months."

"He's doing well."

"They are," he affirmed.

She noted the pride in his voice and she was, too. They both sounded like proud parents, she mused, as if those kids were their own. In a way, they were. She would do anything for them if they asked.

"I should head home," Effie said after a while.

"A'right."

She left him sitting on the bench in the park and long after she had fixed herself a quick dinner, she wondered if he was still there and if he had eaten.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a few things happen between them so let me know what you're thinking in the reviews :)


	6. Gasoline

  1. **Gasoline**



Each day, Effie could see him growing weary.

Each visit to the arena ate away at him. To have to see the Games during mandatory viewing was one thing, but to be there and to see what the Capitol had turned the arena into was another. Haymitch took the Capitol’s mockery of the tributes death hard, even after all these years.

He didn’t speak to her about it. Where they stood, she hardly think that he would come to her with such a thing, and especially so when he was not a man to wear his heart on a sleeve.

There were times when she wanted to reach out to him. There were times when she wanted to tell him to go home, not because she did not want him around to see through his personal challenge towards her, but because she feared he would let the anger fester in him and it would make him far worse.

When they finally reached Mags’ arena, Effie kept an eye on him. He stood at the spot where the sixteen year old Mags Cohen had created a trap and sunk fishhooks into the necks of the last two tributes. He picked up the two fishhooks, ran his thumb lightly over it, an unreadable look on his face, before placing it back where he found it.

“She would have been good to Finn,” he commented, his back to her.

“Yes,” Effie agreed. “She would have doted on him but… Finn wouldn’t be here if she had not sacrificed herself so that Finnick – “

“Yeah,” Haymitch cut her off.

His glass of whiskey had shattered in his hands when Mags had walked into the fog during the 75th Games. Effie still remembered that like it was yesterday.

There was a screen on the spot they were currently standing. When this arena was still popular with the tourists, the scene of Mags’ winning kills had been played countless of times to visitors. The arena had not been opened to the public since Mags turned 30, until recently when she was reaped for the 75th Games. Interests in all the victors turned tributes spiked again and her arena, along with those who were reaped were open again. The Capitol made thousands of dollars from visitors’ fees and purchase of merchandise – capitalism at its best.

“Gasoline,” Haymitch requested from one of the crew members. “Just like we talked about.”

 Effie laid a hand on his arm. “We can still just blow it up.”

“She’d have burnt it down…. Or flood it.”

Biting her lower lip, Effie stepped back and watched as he started pouring the liquid around the arena. In the distance, some of Barron’s crew members were doing the same so they could cover more ground.

Haymitch must have talked to them beforehand, she deduced from his earlier comment, because Barron had not flown his team earlier to set up the charges like they had been doing.

Which would also explain why Barron’s hovercraft had gallons of gasoline in it, Effie mused.

When Haymitch was done, he walked back towards where she was. Her nostrils flared at the smell of petroleum clinging to him. She never thought she would think it, but she much preferred the smell of whiskey on him. It was less… _destructive._

Haymitch held out his palm towards her and for a moment, she only looked at him in confusion.

“Come on, give it up.”

“Oh!” she blinked and gave her the lighter she kept in her purse.

Once Barron’s crew retreated back to their hovercraft, Haymitch’s thumb glided over the lighter. The small flame danced and grew once he threw the lighter on the ground, leaving a trail of fire right into the arena. Cressida filmed it all.

The fire gave rise to the heat and when a gust of wind brought the heat over to where they were standing, Haymitch’s hand twitched. Someone had burnt in his past, if she remembered it right. He had never mentioned who it was during one of his drunken ramblings as she helped him into bed but she could guess. It was second nature the way she held his hand without a fuss and squeezed it comfortingly. He glanced her way but otherwise said nothing.

Somewhere in the Capitol, someone in the Command Centre activated the force field to contain the spread of fire within its confines. They stood safely just outside of the force field, watching the flames consume the arena. The tail of the cornucopia broke off from the rest and crashed into the ground, the sound loud and deafening.

“She was five when she heard the announcement from the Capitol about the Games,” Haymitch started talking. “She was with her brother in their little hut by the sea when the mandatory viewing came.”

Mags had always had a special place in his heart. She could never replace the mother he lost but she came close, the same way she became half of Finnick’s family.

 “Mags didn’t understand what it meant... told me she saw the fear in her brother’s face. Imagine being five and being told that when she turned twelve, they might pick her name to play a game that could mean her death; that it was punishment for a rebellion they didn’t start.”

“I’m sorry,” she said because she was. She truly was sorry. “Children shouldn’t pay for the sins of their parents.”

A muscle in his jaws clenched.

“No, they shouldn’t,” he agreed and despite wanting to keep things civil, Effie opened her mouth to make a point except he beat her to it. “I know that’s the reason you’re fucking pissed with me but you got it wrong.”

Effie wanted to argue because what could she possibly have gotten wrong? The basis of it was simple – Capitol children directly related to those who held most powers in Snow’s regime. It was children paying for their parents’ crime. _Again_.

"Come on," he mumbled, walking back to the hovercraft.

The moment they returned to the City, Haymitch disappeared even before she could debrief everyone prior to their break for the weekend. It had been an emotionally exhausting week and a break would do everyone good, especially Haymitch.

Walking home, she passed by the park to see if Haymitch might be there by chance. He wasn't so she went home instead.

By Saturday afternoon, the uneasiness from their last conversation was still bothering her. She sat by the café, a small business start-up by a lady from District 6, and sipped her coffee. A book sat open in front of her but she had been at it for the past half an hour without even turning a page. Instead, she had been watching the people passing by, not really registering a face but yet, expecting a familiar face of someone living around that area to jump out.

With a sigh, she cleared the table, grabbed her purse and made her way over to his building.

She knocked on his door, and smiled politely at a woman passing down the corridor with a prominent green wig that made Effie wince. Wigs had gone out of style since the Capitol fell but for some, clinging to outdated fashion was a means of comfort and since the woman had allowed her to rent the place for Haymitch at such short notice, Effie tried to politely avert her gaze from that offending synthetic hair as she bid her a pleasant day.

"Haymitch," she knocked again, this time a little louder. “Will you please open the door?”

Effie waited, counted to ten and knocked again.

“Are you home, Haymitch?”

She heard some shuffling, the sound of a bottle knocking against furniture before the door was yanked open. He swayed on his feet and leaned heavily against the door for support.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his eyes taking a while to focus on her.

“You disappeared.”

“Worried ‘bout me are you?” he slurred and abruptly stepped back when she pushed her way in. “Needed a drink, didn’t think it was your scene.”

Her gaze swept over his living room, taking in the few empty bottles. He must have been drinking since the night before, right after he left.

 “Are you alright?”

“Didn’t think you’d care,” Haymitch muttered, throwing her own words back at her.

This was them at their best; destroying and tearing at each other, trying to see who would hurt each other the most. She didn’t think they would _still_ behave this way after the war but perhaps, it was a chain that was difficult to break.

“If you want to return home, I would totally understand, Haymitch. This is taking a toll on you, isn’t it?” she peered at him worriedly and as she expected, he frowned in displeasure. The problem was, they had not even reached Chaff’s arena and she knew that would hit him harder than Mags’. “Johanna will join me before long. I won’t be doing this on my own if that is what you are worried about.”

“Finnick’s year is the 65th. That’s a hell of a long way to go. She won’t be here till then. What then?”

“Do not worry yourself about me.”

She meant for it to be placating but he must have heard it wrong because he fumed, thinking he was being dismissive. Walking away from her, he grabbed a bottle of scotch on the way. He opened it, paused and then set it down rather brusquely.

“Tell me how to make it better,” he said suddenly, turning around to fix her with a look. “Tell me ‘cause I fuckin’ miss you.”

“Haymitch…”

He sank on the chair, a teal bohemian sofa with its bright purple cushions that really did not suit the man sitting on it. Haymitch whispered with a tremble in his voice, “I felt like I’ve lost you again.”

Effie rubbed her hand, soothing the goose pimples that had erupted upon hearing his admission.

“I was never yours for you to lose me.”

At that, Haymitch snorted, the sound dark and bitter, but when he lifted his head, he looked quite forlorn.

She tilted her head, frowning at him. “Was I?” she asked suddenly uncertain.

“I fought for you.”

“It could mean anything,” she tried to rationalise, mostly for her benefit because she really did not know what she meant to him. It was never spoken. When she tried to deduce from the way he acted with her especially when they were alone thinking that he cared more than he let on, prison made her think that it was all just her delusion. It made her believe that she was only imagining it all because of her aching need for him to love her. “It could mean you felt guilty that I was taken and that you were only trying to do what was right. You always do what’s right, _always_ , even if it meant leaving me behind for the children’s sake.”

“Fighting for you was more than just doing the right thing,” he countered.

Stunned, she could only stare at him, wanting desperately to be assured that he meant what she thought it meant.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered before she had a chance to have her say. "If you ain't gonna believe me, then you ain't, but you're the one now saying I always do what's right. _You_ ," he said, looking at her. "So, remember that the next time you're angry with me 'bout what went down that day with the vote."

"You were all voting to have another Games – the very thing you were trying to end," she frowned and countered the very statement she had said earlier. "I stand corrected then because that is _not_ doing the right thing, is it?"

"I didn't vote for that," he flared, sweeping the glass off the table. It hit the wall. "I _didn't_ , Effie."

His voice was begging for her to understand and she wanted to more than anything else but she was confused at this emerging conflicting version. Nothing added up for her. When she first confronted him, resulting in the huge argument before he left the Capitol, he had not denied voting for another Hunger Games. He was also too busy shouting back and then trying to subdue her hysterical self.

"That is _not_ what Johanna and Peeta told me," she told him.

His face scrunched in displeasure. She sat on the chair, tethering at the edge as she wondered if they would plunge into another terrible argument. Effie gripped the arm of the chair, preparing herself to stand her ground, despite her heart bidding her to flee to avoid another row.

"You went to the wrong people. Peeta'll give you _his_ version – how he hammered me during the voting to think ‘bout the blood on my hands. You asked Johanna whose motivation was to see Snow suffered because he has a – what? – granddaughter, yeah? She wasn’t thinking about the politics … about Coin.”

Her brows knitted together in confusion. That was an angle that Peeta, Annie nor Johanna had _never_ mentioned. When they talked about that day, not that it happened often, it was just about who voted what and who fought for what.

“You didn’t ask _me,_ sweetheart. You didn’t ask the why. You heard your story from them and you assumed you knew it all. You know nothing,” Haymitch sniggered bitterly. “You didn’t want to try to understand. You were angry ‘bout being kept in the dark and being left behind – you were just looking for a target to lash out and yeah, I deserved it.”

“I – “ she swallowed, trying to form words she couldn’t make out right now.

“You know,” he tilted his head to the side, watching her, “you ever thought about it this way; what may seem heartless and cruel from your side might actually be the only way to protect my family?”

She blinked, snapping her mouth shut.

“I don’t have it in me to keep fightin’, sweetheart. If you’re only going to do the same right now, then, _please_ , leave me the hell alone,” he dismissed, walking back to where he had left his scotch.

He picked the bottle and disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. In the end, not wanting him to hurt himself in case he stumbled out of his room in the middle of the night while drunk, she cleaned the pieces of broken glass shards from earlier and left quietly, her heart lodged in her throat.

For the first time, she doubted what she knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be so hard on Effie, she's not unreasonable, you'll see in Chapter 7 :) Aside from their conversation, which is chipping away at the invisible wall a little at a time, let me know what you think of Haymitch at Mags' arena!
> 
> Just to let you know, there will likely not be an update tomorrow as my sister's getting married on the Saturday! So, see you the week after!


	7. Sapphire

**7\. Sapphire**

Walking home, an ominous sense of dread began to coil around her heart. She realised that she might have been a little harsh and cold with the way she treated him.

Right after the rescue, she justified her reaction as a necessity for her own protection and preservation. Except in doing so, she had built a wall to keep him out, not giving him a chance to explain himself, using the overwhelming sense of betrayal and abandonment to attack him at every opportunity. Even though deep down within the recess of her heart she  _knew_  Haymitch would have tried his best where she was concerned, she couldn't dig deep enough to hold that feeling in her hand when it was too filled with anger.

It took two hands to clap and she had not tried to hear  _his_  side of the story - that was true. Soon after she learnt of his vote, it truly felt as if she had reached her limit with him and she had let her emotions cloud her judgment.

He always had a reason for doing the things he did, and she had been afraid to hear his reason for that vote – that a part of him wanted to see the Capitol children suffered the same, as ridiculous as that sound.

She stopped, her hand gripping the back of the bench. She felt disgusted with herself. She felt dirty that she would think that of him. He wasn't like that. He  _wasn't._ She knew him and the person he was.

It was just the treacherous need to not be let down and left disappointed again that was making her irrational.

She had been in that cell, crushed by the weight of realisation that the soldiers were not going to take her with them. She had watched them freed Peeta, Johanna and Annie, and when she pleaded, one had sent an apologetic glance her way, claiming her name wasn't on the list. Johanna had had enough strength in her to claw a soldier's arm, demanding that Effie be taken with them and cursing when they didn't.

After they left and she was once again alone with her thoughts in that dark, depressing cell, she had hated Haymitch. It was easier to hate him for not including her name like she meant very little instead of making excuses for him.

But now... Now, she was in a better place. She wasn't hurting physically; she wasn't in pain or on medications and she could  _think_ rationally.

The man she knew would never have allowed that to happen. There must have been something in District Thirteen that had prevented him from making sure her name was on the list.

Effie sat on the bench until her breathing was under control, and she unclenched her fist slowly. Her eyes scanned her surroundings to remind herself of where she was. The panic attacks while still present had lessened over the months, but she was always fearful of experiencing one in public.

Not wanting to be alone with her thoughts, and knowing that going back to Haymitch's apartment would not be a wise decision right now, Effie made a call to Plutarch asking if he could please extend his generosity by sending her to District Four via a hovercraft.

It took some manner of persuasion but by mid-afternoon, she was enroute.

"I had a sense that … that he is willing to work things out," Effie admitted, swirling her glass of wine absent-mindedly long after Annie had tucked Finn to bed.

"Are you?" Annie asked gently.

"I don't know," Effie sighed. "When we parted, we were both so bitter and angry, and how does anyone move past that?"

Annie smiled softly, taking Effie's hand in her own. "You forgive each other. Haymitch... I don't believe he was angry with you. It was himself that he was angry with. Have you thought of it that way, Effie?"

"What are you on about, Annie?" Johanna scoffed.

"Effie was his responsibility and he failed you. He must have been angry, he must have hated himself for that," Annie spoke quietly. "He just wants to do right by you when he asked that you come with him. It was … It must have been his way to make sure that no more harm will come to you, don't you think? Not bringing you with him to Thirteen, not telling you everything he knew, and keeping you an arm's length away was his way of protecting you but that didn't quite work out well the first time round so could it be that he was still trying to do the same by keeping you close? You know him better than any of us."

"He could be trying to make up for what happened to me," Effie countered.

"Yes," Annie hummed in agreement, "he couldn't protect you once, now he is trying to do exactly that by insisting you come with him."

"You know exactly what you were getting yourself into when you went to get those tokens," Johanna pointed out. "Your damn gold wig... That's not exactly subtle."

"I do know," Effie said indignantly. "It was a statement I chose to make by aligning myself with the Mockingjay. I do not blame him for that. I was just – I was left behind in that cell, Johanna. I was left behind again when he left for Twelve."

Johanna frowned. "He fucking asked you to Twelve, Trinket."

" _After_  I found out his vote!" Effie let out a trembling breath. It was bad timing on his part. "How could I go with him then? How could you expect me to? If my nephew wasn't killed during the bombing, he would have been part of the Games, do you understand? You and him and Katniss voted for it."

Johanna clenched her jaws and crossed her arms.

"Why the fuck are you here then if you  _still_ haven't gotten over the fucking votes?"

Effie deflated. She was so tired of arguing.

"You're a fucking mess, Trinket," Johanna went on.

"Stop it, please," she whispered.

"You can't sit there and be okay with me when you're not with him. We voted for the same fucking thing. So tell me," Johanna sneered, "you mad at me, too?"

"No," she shook her head.

"So it's just you holding a double standard," Johanna went on mercilessly.

"No! I didn't love you the way I loved him! You never knew about my family. You didn't know about my nephew. He did, Johanna. He knew about Emmanuel when he made the vote."

"Your nephew's dead and he probably fucking knew that too by the time Coin called for the vote. Get over yourself," she spat. "The Games didn't happen in the end. You're stubborn and he's stubborn. Nothing's gonna change if one of you ain't willing to change it. Fucking forgive him already. The world doesn't revolve around you and if you can't get over that, maybe he should stop pining for you and find someone else."

It was stupid and it sounded downright petulant but she said it anyway, "He's not pining for me."

"He came to the Capitol for  _you_. Look, Effie," Johanna sighed and like Haymitch, she very rarely used her name that it made Effie raised her head. "We all have things we're mad about but it's got to end at some point, y'know? I like you and I like him. You're all..." Johanna swallowed, "family. He's as close to a dad as I can get, and I'm not saying you're like my mum or anything, but fucking work it out, man. If it comes down to it, I'm  _not_ choosing between you and him."

"It's alright," Effie blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears pooling in her eyes. "I wouldn't fight custody over you."

"You bitch," Johanna muttered, grabbing the bottle of wine Effie was reaching for.

It made Effie laughed at least, as did Annie. Effie knew the entire conversation had her on edge. She never liked it when they fought.

"Your heart is not made of stone, Effie. I – I know you can find it in you to forgive him," Annie rubbed clutched her hand. "Maybe not now right away, but slowly, yes? Don't let what happened in prison change you. Don't let them win."

Johanna's tough method and Annie's gentle ways were exactly what she needed, and she would always be grateful for their friendship. She might need time to come to terms with all that had transpired between Haymitch and herself, but she was determined to stop holding him at an arm's length away. He would have an explanation and she should hear it.

Monday morning saw Haymitch leaning against the wall at the steps up to the Parliament house, hands buried deep in his pocket. At the sight of her, he pushed himself off the wall and waited until she climbed the stairs.

"Where were you?" he asked

"I beg your pardon?"

"I called Saturday night and on Sunday – you didn't pick up."

Effie looked his way, a little surprised by that information. He reached forward, pressing the button for the elevator when it was clear she wasn't going to do it.

"I was not home," she informed him. "I visited District Four."

"Right," he nodded, holding the lift door open to allow her to enter. "How are they?"

"They are doing quite well. Finn is growing so big by the day. Soon, he'd be able to walk," she shared that information with him. "Anyway, is something the matter?"

"Nothin," he shook his head and it was only when he rubbed the back of his neck that it occurred to her that he was feeling uncomfortable. "You – uh – you said back in Twelve that I could try calling. Shouldn't have chased you outta the house."

"You didn't," Effie assured him. "I – We needed …. It was a heavy conversation and we both needed a little space."

"That's the reason you went to Four?"

Her silence was answer enough. The elevator chimed, signaling their arrival. They walked down the corridor side by side when Effie remembered.

"Oh," she stopped in her tracks. "I nearly forgot. I got you this."

Effie handed him the paper bag she was holding. He shot her a curious look before extracting the bottle of Bombay Sapphire from the bag, a brand that could only be found in Four. He seemed a little wary as he studied his gift.

"Are you tryin' to pay me off so I'd drop this and go home?"

She gasped because  _that_  did not even cross her mind.

"No, of course not," she exclaimed indignantly. "I – It is for you, simply so."

"Thanks," he muttered.

He still sounded skeptical.

"My behavior toward you has been very appalling," she said. "You were right. I didn't listen to you to understand. I get my information from others instead but it wasn't  _your_  facts."

He nodded and perhaps it was where they were – in the middle of the corridor outside of the conference room – because he lifted the bottle to inspect it instead of addressing the elephant in the room.

"Blue, like your eyes," he commented with a lopsided grin.

"Perhaps one day, you'll make me a drink and we'll talk," she offered him a smile and left it at that.

He would recognise the tentative olive branch for what it was and they would have plenty of time to smooth out the wrinkles in their relationship, if one could call it that, but for now, the 12th arena was waiting for them.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and to Effie, I say: progress.
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter with Effie & Haymitch, and Effie with Jo + Annie. Leave your reviews and it'll be the best present especially on my birthday today ehehe.


	8. The Bar

**8\. The Bar**

Where her social life was concern, there was little resemblance to the person she was before the war. It was glaringly apparent when she chose instead to spend her Friday night in the office, going through the project timeline and noting with satisfaction that it was going according to schedule - schedule she had meticulously set out.

Cressida and Pollux had tried to persuade her into joining them for a party two blocks away from the office thrown by one of the small-time district entrepreneurs but the thought of mingling with people from the districts made her stomach roiled. Just like those former Capitol elites, Effie was sure that  _some_ of them would have something nasty to say behind her back or mock her in the face or throw her disdainful looks, all of which she was not in the mood to face that night so she opted to work instead.

It was boring, yes, but boring was good. Boring meant she was safe.

That was becoming her new motto in life. As long as things were boring, it meant things were fine and there was no need to disrupt  _that_.

Glancing at the clock, she realised with a start that it was nearing nine at night. Going home too late in the night was something she was not comfortable with either so she shut her computer, slung her bag over her shoulder and walked home.

She passed by rows of shops that had sprung up in the neighbourhood. The deli was still open, as usual, so she slipped in and smiled at the lady behind the counter. Without even having to say anything, the lady had her usual order prepared and wrapped. Effie walked passed the bar to get to the traffic junction that would take to her building when she spotted the familiar hunched figure of Haymitch Abernathy.

She stopped, debating with herself if she should go in. But even if she did, what would she do or  _say_? The bar was not a place she frequent often or at all.

It was then that Haymitch turned and saw her standing by the glass window. He raised his glass in a toast, a half smile on his lips before he looked away, swirling the glass absent-mindedly.

It was actually the look on his face that made her walked in. He looked... despondent... lonely.

The stool next to him was empty so Effie slid in and placed the sandwich on the bar top.

"Finally finished working, huh?"

She smiled. At the risk of her dinner getting cold, Effie unwrapped it.

"You don't eat after eight," he pointed out this change in her behaviour.

"I am not an escort anymore."

The  _'I do not have to look good for the cameras'_  was left unsaid but Haymitch understood it anyway.

"You're not," he nodded. "You could use a bit filling out, anyway. Here, have a drink on me."

He ordered a random cocktail off the menu and scoffed when it came, a sloshing pink drink with a mini umbrella.

The back of her neck prickled and after years of being in the spotlight, Effie could always tell when someone was looking at her. She didn't mind it before but now... It made her uncomfortable in her own skin.

Angling her body, she turned to see a group of women sitting in a booth. The only reason, she realised she felt that someone was staring at her was because their gaze was lingering on the person next to her. They were watching Haymitch, sometimes giggling and conferring amongst themselves.

She shifted a little and her stool moved just tiny bit to the left, closer to Haymitch.

"Here, have some with me," she said without much affair, giving him more than half of her sandwich.

She never could eat much which meant Haymitch often cleaned her plate since he had something against wasting food. He picked up his half of the share and took a large bite from it. It was gone in two bites before she was even a quarter through hers.

His gaze strayed her way every now and then, watching her quietly.

"What's the matter?" Effie asked as she put down her napkin.

"What makes you think anything's wrong?" Haymitch snorted. "Me in a bar, drink in a hand... What tipped you off?"

"The fifteen years I worked with you. There is something you're not telling me."

With a scrunched of his nose, Haymitch downed his whiskey and ordered another.

"I've been thinking 'bout sitting out tomorrow's plan."

She traced the movement of his finger circling the rim of his glass with her eyes, waiting for him to explain.

"You'll have Beetee for tomorrow so... You've got a victor – you don't need me there, yeah?"

"I – I don't but..."

_I want you to._

She was used to his presence. She was used to it being  _them_  - she and him – destroying the arena. It would be different without him around but he must have his reasons for not wanting to be there when he had refused to leave for Twelve even after Mags'.

"May I ask why?

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting in his seat. One of the women from the booth earlier, bumped his shoulder as she picked up her drink from the counter. She sent a charming smile his way but Haymitch merely nodded, clearly distracted enough not to fall for her ploy.

"I can't look at him," Haymitch admitted, forcing Effie's attention back from the woman to him. "I can't do it without thinkin' of Prim blowin' up to pieces."

Startled at that unexpected admission, Effie sat her glass down lest it slipped from her grip. She turned in her seat so that she was facing him, her knees resting lightly against the side of his thigh.

"It ain't his fault or Gale's... Not really, not their blame to take on the whole. They designed the dual-timing explosion but they didn't fuckin' know Coin would find 'bout it and use it," Haymitch muttered in a rough voice. "Except I can't help but think if they were as suspicious 'bout Coin as I was..."

He trailed off but clearly did not find that point worth illustrating further because he said, "He's gonna see me tomorrow if I'm there. He's gonna want to talk 'bout what happened  _again_  and it ain't somethin' I want. This whole business with the arenas is fucking exhaustin' already in the first place without having to add that conversation into the mix, you know?"

Effie barely form a reply when Haymitch took her bag at the foot of the stool and set it on his lap. He unzipped it without asking her if it was permissible to do so, as if he was at liberty to be going through her things the way he often come and go from her room before. He quickly found what he was looking for amidst her bag of make-up, the novel she was reading which drew a skeptical look from Haymitch and her emergency tampons. Haymitch flipped through her bound notebook.

"He'd want to see Wiress' arena destroyed," Haymitch finger tapped the section marked with the year Wiress had won. "Do me a favour and get his and Wiress' destroyed tomorrow, yeah? Hers is gonna be close to Chaff and I don't want to have to take a trip in a hovercraft with him if I can avoid it."

"I will work it out tomorrow with the team," Effie assured, taking back her book and her bag from him. "How long do you plan on avoiding him, Haymitch?"

All she got for an answer was a non-committal shrug.

"Victors should stick together," she advised. "You are a close-knitted group with the exception of Enobaria. You're bound to see him during Finn's birthday celebrations or Remembrance Day."

Snorting, Haymitch, "you should take your own advice too, yeah? Stick with your victors. Your  _team_... Don't see you doing that."

His words felt like a punch to her stomach. That was  _unfair._ Effie recoiled and promptly turned away from him, staring at the multitudes of liquor bottle on display across from her behind the bar.

"Shouldn't have said that... I'm sorry, sweetheart," he held both hands up. This time, he moved his stool closer. "Don't go," he placed a hand on her arm when she started keeping her belongings back into her purse. "I like that you're here. Stay, alright? Won't talk 'bout you not being in Twelve ever. Okay?"

 _Ever..._  She paused.

He would never ask her to return to Twelve again.

Except, on his first day back, he had been sure that when he goes home, she would come with him.

 _He's going to take me back because I_ want _to, not because he asked._

XxX

It did not surprise her to see Beetee arriving in Plutarch's car since Plutarch had graciously offered his home to the man. He would have extended the same courtesy to Haymitch if he was only going to be staying in the city for a day or two, she supposed, except Haymitch would be here for a few months and Plutarch would not risk Haymitch turning his home into a pig sty.

"Ms. Trinket," Beetee greeted amicably with a smile.

Before the war, Effie had never been forced to spend her down time with Beetee as she had with Finnick or Chaff or Johanna when they made social calls to Twelve's Penthouse. Chaff always thought Beetee was too serious and put too much damper on the group's spirit for him to be included.

"Will Haymitch be here?" Beetee asked when he noticed that Haymitch was not in the room.

Covering for Haymitch had become second nature to her after numerous stunts he pulled during Games season so this was no different.

"Since you will be here to oversee your arena as well as Wiress, I gave him the day off. I did not think his presence today was needed."

"I see," Beetee nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Will you tell him that I have something he might find interesting? I had thought to give it to him now since we are both in the city but... Let him know, will you?"

"What is it?"

"I would rather meet him and pass it to him personally."

Effie sighed.

This was exactly what Haymitch wanted to avoid.

"He will ask if it is anything important," Effie said once the hovercraft had landed and her voice could be heard over the sound of the rotators, "and if you really do want to meet him, you will have to give me more than that."

The sad smile on his face was telling enough for her. He must have known that Haymitch would not have wanted to meet him.

"He is not... angry," Effie felt compelled to say. "He knows you and Mr. Hawthorne are not to be blamed for what happened. I believe he just needs time to come around."

"I understand completely," Beetee nodded, accepting the bottle of water Cressida tossed his way for their journey. "I take the blame for what happened. I should have known. I should have been more careful."

The slight pause from her was enough a canvas for him to paint his own conclusion on where she stood on that matter.

"This here," he showed her a small thumb drive, "is the recording of the vote Coin had all the Victors participate in. I took it from Plutarch and deleted the soft copy. He does not know that I have it in here now. I  _believe_  that it is the  _only_  recording."

"A recording?"

"We were told that it was a confidential vote but I believed especially after what Coin pulled with the design Gale and I had, that she had the vote recorded in case she... needed leverage in the future."

Her gaze landed on the device in his palm.

"Why would you want to give it to him?"

"His was the swing vote, Ms. Trinket," Beetee said. "I have heard of one or two publishing company in the midst of publishing the events that led to the fall of the Capitol. This," he tapped the thumb drive, "is part of our history. It is something that happened even if, thankfully, the last Games never came to fruition but the votes did happen and if this recording falls into any one of the publishing company's hands, it will be published. That is something that I can guarantee you. I wouldn't know how they would paint the vote or any of the victors who voted for it."

Effie held out her palm and he easily gave her possession of the thumb drive.

"I owe it to him and to Katniss over what happened. If he or Katniss wants it destroyed, they should do it even if it meant we are withholding the truth from the public. Or otherwise, if this leaks – "

"It shouldn't if this is the  _only_  copy," Effie interrupted despite herself.

" _If_  it does and if I am wrong about this being the only copy in existence, then you with your experience with public relations could cast the event in a … proper light," Beetee said. "Soften the impact so to speak; make the victors look non-threatening especially to the Capitol citizens so they would continue to place their trust in this new government. If Coin had lived, she would have informed the public that the Victors stood by the decision for the Games even if she gave her word that the specifics would be confidential."

"Her word doesn't seem to mean much, does it?" Effie mused, looking at the thumb drive in her hand.

"No, it doesn't, which is why I took this away from Plutarch. If any of the publishing company even alludes to the vote perhaps… we could present it in a way that does not distress a certain group of people."

_He meant the Capitol citizens. People like me. If I was distressed when I found out, the others would too._

"I will give this to him," Effie assured. "Thank you."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I read Mockingjay and it says that Coin in the event of the Games would let the public know that the Victors stood by it, it made me think that would she really not disclose who voted what in the future if any of the victors were to... step out of line? It's Coin so I have trust issues with her.
> 
> ANYWAY, what do you make of Effie's life motto about boring = good and hayffie at the bar or Haymitch with Beetee? Let me know!
> 
> A/N: I am going on a vacation next week so I will try to update the chapter on Sunday night instead of the usual Saturday.


	9. Perspective

**9\. Perspective**

Haymitch was staring at her, grey piercing eyes that were often red from intoxication now sharp, wild and unsettled. Her expression softened, suspecting that some part of him must be shaken by this.

"Haymitch, what do you want me to do with it?"

"Put it on, play it."

His request took her aback. It was not at all what she was expecting, considering what unfolded during that vote.

"You – " she paused haltingly. "Do you really want me to see your - "

"I didn't vote for the Games," he cut her off curtly. "I've already told you that. You gotta see the bigger picture; see it for what it really is. The truth you know ain't the only truth out there."

She pursed her lips but understood his point and she had wanted to hear  _his_  side after the talk with Johanna and Annie. Realising that this was an opportunity for them to talk it out, she walked over to where the television was mounted on the wall of his rented apartment and stuck the device in one of its USB port.

Behind her, Haymitch already had a bottle of whiskey in hand. A glass of wine meant for her was already poured out. She didn't even realised he had moved from the sofa to retrieve the drinks. Or that he stocked up on wine since he preferred something stronger himself which clearly implied that he had bought that wine with her in mind. An unexpected fondness for him bloomed in her chest.

"Need a drink for this," he mumbled. "Figured I should get you something too before you have my balls for being a lousy host."

"I had hoped you would have learnt to mind your language by now," Effie clicked her tongue but took a seat next to him.

"Lost cause," he chuckled good-naturedly.

On screen, the grainy scene gave way to a familiar setting. She remembered having led Katniss to this room before taking her leave.

The camera, it would seem, had been mounted somewhere above and behind where Johanna was sitting which meant that Effie could clearly see Haymitch and Katniss. President Coin had smartly positioned herself right outside of the frame. A clear strategic move because should the video ever be released she could have it edited to start from where the Victors were tossing votes, thus removing the part where Coin herself was speaking to them and create a plausible deniability that she was there to begin with.

Alma Coin's voice filled the room, and Effie marveled that for someone who is currently rotting under the dirt, just the sound of her voice could still make something in her stomach curl.

_"… in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population..."_

Effie blanched. Almost immediately, she felt Haymitch's palm just below her shoulder blade, strong and warm, a source of comfort she was grateful for.

"It crossed her mind," Effie whispered.

"Of course, it did," Haymitch said gruffly. "But it won't look good to have genocide on her resume for when she sits in office though, would it?"

 _That_ ultimately led to the final, supposedly symbolic Hunger Games that Coin proposed.

"None of us would have  _that_  on our hands or our conscience," Haymitch spoke. "It acted as bait so we'd bite when she suggested the Games."

"Just like they did," Effie nodded on screen where Johanna and Enobaria had just voted for the Games.

On screen, a fierce, explosive debate continued to rage on between the fractured victors, punctuated only by Katniss calm voice saying, "I vote yes… for Prim."

Effie inhaled sharply. To hear it recounted by Peeta and Johanna, and to actually watch and listened as it happened was two vastly different things. Peeta and Johanna could never accurately describe the palpable tension she felt as she watched the voting unfold. They could never relay with accuracy the play of emotions on Katniss' face or the way Haymitch's gaze sharply cut to his young charge.

It was at that moment that Effie pause the video. She felt his eyes on her, watching her move warily, waiting for the harsh judgment that she had constantly bestowed on him to pass her lips once more. She ignored all that, looking only at Katniss on screen.

There was something fierce burning in her eyes, something that spoke of revenge. Back then, Effie would not have understood what it meant but now, she was watching this with the background knowledge that Beetee's and Gale's trap with the double detonating bomb had been deployed without their knowledge and that Prim had ultimately paid the price for that. Effie was watching this now with the hindsight that had rendered her blind before.

Katniss was after Coin.

She understood that now, and she chided herself for never realizing that Snow would never have detonated a bomb with Capitol children in his mansion when he was clearly using them as shield for his protection, cleverly playing on the Rebel's humanity to not hurt children no matter if they were from the Capitol.

"Haymitch, it's up to you," Coin said the moment Effie resumed the video.

She saw him looking intently at Katniss, never once taking his eyes off her. From where he was sitting, Peeta, red faced and clearly furious by Katniss' decision, was trying to sway Haymitch's vote to his side. He reminded Haymitch rather brutally the blood that would be on his hands. Still, Haymitch's attention was only for Katniss and at that moment, the girl turned towards him, holding his gaze steady.

In that split second, they had managed to communicate something everyone else in the room was oblivious to. They had always had some kind of understanding that Effie could never hope to have. They understood each other without having to be vocal about it. It had started in the arena with the gifts and it had continued on to this penultimate moment.

"I'm with the Mockingjay," Haymitch finally gave his vote.

Her breath hitched in her throat. If she hadn't been sitting, she would have collapsed on the chair. Her knees felt weak.

_I'm with the Mockingjay._

He wasn't lying.

He had been telling her truth, always. He had not voted for whatever Coin was suggesting. It was not a yes from him. He was making a statement  _to_ Katniss and  _for_  Katniss. He was telling the girl he was responsible for that whatever she had planned, he would stand by her.

Peeta could not have told her this not because he was manipulating facts to paint his side in her favour. It was because like her, Peeta could  _not_  understand them. It was the same with Johanna. To her, he had voted for the Games.

They were telling her the facts they  _saw_  and thought they knew. It wasn't Haymitch's fact, and he didn't need to tell her now. Her entire perspective had shifted. Right now, Effie was in a  _I + XI = X_ situation.  _Which would be incorrect,_  she thought unless she moved to see if from another angle, just as it was happening to her now.

She understood it perfectly. Haymitch always had his reasons for doing the things he did, even this, and she should have believed in him.

It was never about revenge against the Capitol. It was against Coin, and this was the only way to ensure Coin would not take Katniss as a threat until she could do what needed to be done.

The guilt bubbled in her throat knowing that in some ways, she had wronged him. She had always been in his corner... a _lways_ , until now. He must have felt equally betrayed by her.

"The last advice I gave her before she went into the arena was to remember who the real enemy is. The girl had never forgotten that advise, not even when we were at the end. I never lost faith in Katniss," he tossed her a poignant smile.

But  _she_  had.

Her heart ached.

Effie tried to say something but her voice cracked with emotion and she swallowed the words.

"Those publishers…. They gonna talk 'bout who voted what?" Haymitch asked. "Not sure the masses would understand this."

She heard what he didn't say. She who had known him for more than fifteen years had not understood it when she first heard it, what more those who didn't know him at all.

"As far as we know, this should be the only copy," Effie told him. Her voice was strong and determined when she said, "histories are written by winners, aren't they? We won. We can choose not to make  _this_  a part of the history book."

"Doesn't sound right," he muttered.

She knew his misgivings about partial information but this was necessary if it meant she could protect Katniss and Haymitch, and everyone else. With that, Effie strode to the television, plucked the thumb drive out and tossed it in the fireplace.

The smell of burnt plastic permeated the air.

"It was meant to be confidential. It should remain as such."

Haymitch nodded his thanks. She waited for the inevitable 'I told you so' but it never came. He didn't even discuss what she just witnessed. He could tell that she finally understood and that was enough.

"I'm sorry," she said because she had to.

And because she owed it to him.

The morning after, as they rode the elevator up to the meeting room in the Parliament together, she kept waiting on him to broach about what happened the night before but it never happened. Whatever she had wanted to say, she had already said it and whatever he needed her to understood, she should have understood it already.

He waited until she had boarded the hovercraft before he came after her, shooting her a passing look.

"Stop looking at me like that, sweetheart. You've seen what you needed to see in that video. There's nothing else to say, alright? It ain't on you that you didn't get it back then," he offered her a comforting smile. "Let's just do what we got to do."

What they had to do was to cross the 45th arena, a frozen tundra, off their list.

Flying overhead, Effie saw white wasteland as big as two footballs stadium spreading across and rough rock terrains made up the surface not covered by thick blanket of snow.

Haymitch stood by the partially open hovercraft door as it slowly made its descent with the collar of his coat turned up to ward off the cold.

"We could just melt it," he glanced behind his shoulder to look at her.

"It's your call. Without his next of kin, you are Chaff's representative."

He held out his hand and she passed him the rolled-up map of the arena. He studied it intently, brows furrowing together.

"This is the generator that keeps up the temperature," he inched closer towards her so she could take a look as well.

Effie had memorised the map but she indulged him, regardless.

"Yes. Beetee designed it for the Capitol at the Head Gamemaker's request."

"Turning it off will just melt all the ice caps and snow," Haymitch talked out loud, mostly to himself. "Arena's still gonna be there."

Effie stood next to him without saying a word, letting him run through the scenario on his own. It was likely that he already knew that melting would not work in destroying the arena completely. It was just a ploy to delay time from having to step into the arena.

"Ready?" Baron asked, knocking on the window of their hovercraft to get their attention. "Everything alright?"

Effie gave one last look at Haymitch before she stepped off the plane and into the cold climate. "Are the charges in place?"

"Yep, waiting on your word. Think they need some time to film this arena." Baron nodded to where Cressida was standing. "Heard it's someone close to Abernathy, yeah?"

"Yes," Effie affirmed without divulging too much. "Chaff."

"Right, yeah, seen them together on television a couple of times."

In the distance, Pollux was filming the Cornucopia when Effie noticed his camera turned towards the direction of the hovercraft where Haymitch had finally stepped off.

He walked forward, steps heavy and purposeful, leaving boot marks in the snow until he came upon the Cornucopia. Effie followed him quietly from behind. She had learnt to let him have his space during these moments, especially when it was an arena of someone he deeply cared about; to be there as a silent companion; to let him know that she was simply there.

It didn't take him long to come across the polar bear, lying lifeless on their feet. It can be brought to life with a simple charge of a battery embedded in its belly but right now, it had been turned off.

If she closed her eyes, she could see clearly the moment when Chaff's hand was bitten off by the mutt during their fight. As a young girl, that particular scene had given her nightmares for days but she could not tell anyone about it. She had been too young and had been forbidden from watching the Games but that had not stopped her from sneaking in to watch, just out of sight of her parents in their sitting room.

Her gaze fell on the long spear, the weapon Chaff had used to impale the polar bear during the final moments before he was crowned victor.

"That ain't real, is it? Tell me they didn't fucking preserved his hand," Haymitch growled.

"It is not," Effie assured him. "The make-up department was tasked to make it look like a real hand."

"I think he'd laugh," Haymitch said out of the blue, a comment that threw Effie off momentarily. "Chaff... if he could see this, he'd laugh and make some shrewd comment 'bout the hand not being accurate or whatever."

"Yes," Effie hummed in agreement. "Likely, so. He could never take things seriously."

"No, not even when he was reaped again."

Haymitch took the flask from deep within the black woolen jacket.

"To Chaff," he muttered, taking a drink. "Thanks, brother."

_Brother._

Not 'buddy' like she had often heard them call each other.  _Brother._

He was Haymitch's family too. He had been his family from the moment Haymitch first saw him when he opened his eyes in the hospital after his own Games.

Effie had somehow expected him to say more but Haymitch had never been a man of many words. Silently, he gave her the flask.

"To Chaff, may there be plenty of ladies and plenty of drinks where he is," she said quietly to which Haymitch chuckled.

She tipped the flask back and grimaced as it burnt her throat.

When Haymitch sought her hand as they made the trek through the snow back to the hovercraft, she let him. She didn't let go of his hand even when the arena was blasted to bits.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, more progressive things happened in this chapter so let me know what's your opinion on Effie's reaction towards the video, her understanding or their visit to Chaff's arena… Speaking of which, now that we've seen Chaff's arena, you know what this means! We're getting closer to the second quarter quell. Are you excited?


	10. Place To Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! The arena you're waiting for !

**10\. Place To Be**

While they were enroute to the arena, the technicians in the Control Centre had taken down the force field - a dual protective layer installed after the Games specifically for this arena.

The original force field had been slightly damaged during the Games and due to the popularity of the Quarter Quell, the newly re-installed force field was specially manufactured. It was a necessary precaution, especially once the Tourism Board realised that visitors kept chucking random items at the force field for the sheer fun of having it bounced back, clearly replicating the act of a young Haymitch Abernathy so many years before.

In the hovercraft, Cressida had just finished interviewing Haymitch. He had kept it brief, steering the conversation away from having to discuss his feelings about stepping into the arena, and instead talked about how monumental it was that they had come this far to be able to destroy these last dying symbols of the Capitol’s power and the districts’ enslavement.

“One last question, Haymitch. What are your hopes for the future generation?” Cressida had asked.

It took him awhile to give an answer, his gaze cutting briefly to where Effie was standing just behind Cressida. Truthfully, she was still very surprised that he had been present that morning at Parliament. She had assumed that he would sit this one out as well.

“That they wouldn’t take this fragile peace we fought so hard to get for granted…” he said. “Even without these arenas, they should never forget this long bloody history we had… Even when all of us _here_ are gone – people like me and you, the remaining victors, those rebels who survived to tell the tale – those seventy-five years should be remembered in some ways. Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.”

“You did well,” Effie remarked.

“Didn’t come out right… Didn’t mean for it to… I don’t think we should have to keep remembering whatever’s happened. It ain’t all pretty and it ain’t healthy up here,” he tapped his temple. “I meant to say…. We shouldn’t completely forget but we shouldn’t keep holding on to what happened… I just – I don’t know if it came out right.”

“It’s alright, Haymitch,” Effie reached out for his hand, her thumb brushing comfortingly against his knuckle. “Don’t fret about that. It is unbecoming.”

“Why's that? Between us only you’re allowed to do that?”

“Yes,” she laughed lightly, warm blue eyes seeking his gaze. “Come now, we are here.”

Effie stood up, her hand still in his but when she took a step forward she felt the sudden loss of grip. Haymitch was still sitting where he was. He shot her a look and she recognised the nervousness in his eyes that he tried hard to mask on his face.

He let out a breath and then in one swift motion, Haymitch stood up and strode towards the door, making his exit from the hovercraft. Effie emerged mere seconds after him.

The 50th arena was just as she remembered it to be. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Surrounding the Cornucopia, flowers bloomed in various colours on a vast expanse of green grass as far as the eyes could see. The sky was scattered with clouds and so blue which would have been perfect for a day of picnic if this had been in District Twelve. 

Haymitch stopped at one of the launch platform, walking slowly around it.

"Aster stood here," he recounted before angling his body to face the Cornucopia in the middle of the meadow.

Effie knew this information of course.

The other male tribute from District Twelve, Allan, had been four platforms behind Aster. Maysilee had been on the other side of the meadow, completely unseen by Allan and Aster because of the Cornucopia. Haymitch was five platforms to Maysilee's right, giving him the good vantage point to see his three fellow tributes from home.

Effie had seen his Games countless times and she had visited this arena twice in her life so far; this visit would make three. Once, when she turned twelve, her grandmother had brought her on a trip here as a birthday gift. The other was after she found out that she was to be Twelve's new escort so a week before she was due to meet Haymitch, she had come here foolishly thinking that it would help her in her new designation.

“Couldn’t bring myself to step foot into the meadow in Twelve even years after I won,” Haymitch divulged that piece of information that she never knew. “Kept reminding me of this damn place. The meadow used to be one of my – “

Haymitch stopped abruptly, as if just realizing what slipped passed his tongue.

“Allan went straight for the Cornucopia,” Haymitch muttered, as if remembering. “Chaff had been the one to tell me to avoid it.”

She never knew that either. She never knew that they had spoken prior to Chaff’s visit at the hospital to see the newly crowned, wounded Quell victor.

“Saw a spear pierced through his chest.”

“Haymitch,” Effie rested a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to do this.”

He walked with a shrug, further inwards toward the arena. Effie had no idea where he was headed but she was not willing to let him out of her sight.

“What’s it the therapist called them?” he said. “Closure or somethin’ like that?”

Effie tilted his head, wondering if he was seeing a therapist, but she nodded regardless.

“I _have_ to do this.” His voice was steely with determination. “As much as I want to see it gone, I – I got to see it for one last time. I was sixteen and this place gave me fuckin’ nightmares for years. I’m – I ain’t that boy no more and this place… it _shouldn’t_ give me that same kind of fear it did before. I’m gonna walk through this place once more and I’m gonna leave knowing it won’t have a hold on me ever from now.”

It made sense to her. She had done the same by forcing herself to walk in front of the place where she had been held prisoner before the rebuilding efforts demolished it and she had forced herself to walk passed it again and again until it no longer evoked the same crippling fear like it once had.

Haymitch stopped suddenly at a spot. When Effie came to stand beside him, she began to feel uneasy.

“This is sick,” he growled. She could already see him turned two shades paler. “Is that really her fuckin’ blood?”

“It isn’t. Her blood soaked through and stained the grass, but the crew of this arena often….”

The words were stuck in her throat.

“What?” Haymitch demanded.

“The crew would put paint on it to make the stain look fresh – every year that it is open to public.”

Haymitch licked his lips and swallowed, staring hard at the patch of grass where Maysilee had bled out.

As they walked away, up a small hill which Effie now recognised as the place Haymitch had ran away from the axe-wielding tribute, he asked, “What the hell is this?”

“It is a game….” Effie said hesitantly, growing more uncomfortable by the second. The Capitol’s atrocities were making her feel sick and having to explain to him the way they had turned the sufferings he faced in the arena into even more of an entertainment made her felt as if _she_ was personally responsible for it. “You throw a rock into any of those spots by the moving hoops - they act to bring the attention _away_ from the forcefield - and if it goes in, you’d …. You’ll get a golden axe.”

She carefully left out the fact that she had won two golden axes from her first visit.

Haymitch clenched his jaws but said nothing to that. He moved to the place where the name of the District One’s tribute had been placed and then slowly to the spot where his sixteen year old self had knelt on the grass, clutching his stomach.

“Go back to the hovercraft,” he told her. “I’ll catch up.”

She hesitated, not sure if it would be wise to leave him alone. In the end, she trekked back the path from where they came and stood to wait under a large oak tree, giving him the space he needed while still able to keep him within her line of sight.

Haymitch stood still, heads bowed. Effie was far enough that she was not able to see the expression on his face from his side profile. It made her wonder what was going through his mind.

It was a few more minutes before he finally turned away and walked towards her. If he was surprised to see her waiting for him, his expression did not give him away.

“Let’s blow it up.”

She felt him standing rigid and tense next to her as the demolition crew did the final preparations. Slipping her hand in his, Effie squeezed it lightly, hoping to give him some semblance of comfort and strength.

“I understand why you hated us so much.”

_The Capitol… me…._

At the sudden remark, Haymitch flashed her a perplexed glance.

“Not you,” he said after some time.

“I used to be just like them. I came here to your arena,” she admitted. “I visited others. I – I _enjoyed_ myself.”

Ten years ago, telling him any of that would have made him lose his temper. He would have pinned her against the wall and call her a monster, insult her to hurt her but now, they were both in a very different place.

A muscle in his temple ticked as the grip of her hand tightened, not enough to cause her pain. That was all. There was no violent display of temper, no shouting. Nothing to tell her that what she said might have angered him.

“Did you enjoy the Games once you realised it for what it was?”

 “No, of course not,” she frowned. “You knew that.”

“You visited any of the arenas after you became Twelve’s escort? Finnick’s maybe? Or even Jo’s?”

“Never,” she shook her head. “I couldn’t stomach the –“

“So you ain’t like them. You stopped _enjoying_ once you know the truth. You have your flaws, sweetheart,” he said, “but the best people…. They learnt from it.”

That, she thought, was one of the nicest things he had ever said to her.

“Haymitch,” she said, consumed by this sudden thought and need to say the one thing that she had buried deep. “You could have let me in all those years ago. You could have let me loved you.”

It wasn’t because he wouldn’t, she knew, but they could have been careful. The years would have meant something…. something more than it already had. They could have helped each other. She would have stood by him. 

“It was too dangerous,” he answered. “I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk _you_.”

“I loved you anyway.”

In the background, the arena detonated, engulfed by a fiery orange flame. The force field that had been brought up to contain the explosion ripple from the effect and the smoke quickly obscure their vision.

“Not anymore?” he gave her a side-glance, lips poised in a sad, half-amused smile.

“I do not know,” she answered truthfully. “I cared about you deeply. I – I still do but I _don’t_ hate you. I never did even if I very much wanted to… especially at my lowest moments.”

In that cell when she was left behind… She wished she was dead then because it would be painless.

“That’s good enough for me,” he turned to face her. “We have to start somewhere and _not_ hating is a good place to be.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Share with me your thoughts on this chapter in the comment :)


	11. The Space Between

**11 The Space Between**

Johanna Mason came like a hurricane.

The schedule Effie had perfectly moulded her life into in the name of stability was severely disrupted. Johanna kept her up at odd hours to rant and talk, she dropped by the office unexpectedly and declared they had to go out for dinner  _together_  and she even dragged Effie to the bar Haymitch had grown fond off, the same one she had sat with him a few weeks ago.

There, Johanna challenged Effie to a drinking game, as if Effie had nothing else to do with her night. She didn't but Johanna didn't need to know that, of course.

Haymitch watched on, more amused than anything and provided little to no help when Effie cast him a pleading look which quickly turned into one of despair.

"For every time this idiot says  _'um'_ , we drink," Johanna set out the parameters of the game, nodding at the television mounted behind the bar where a news caster was reading that night's news. "And each time someone orders a drink with a weird-ass name, we drink to that too."

"Are you out of your mind?" Effie huffed. "That's clearly quite subjective. What is weird to you might be perfectly normal to  _me_."

She laughed loudly. "All the cocktails' name on this menu is weird so …. There we go."

"I really do not -"

"You're in too, Haymitch," Johanna declared. "Maybe then Trinket will play."

Snorting, Haymitch said rather smugly, "You know I'll win, yeah? I hold my alcohol better than you both  _combine_."

"Oh, is that what you think?" Johanna scoffed. "Whatcha say, Trinket? Want to prove him wrong?"

"Ready when you are," Haymitch cajoled, raising his glass teasingly.

"Do not encourage her, Haymitch. And No, Johanna, absolutely not," Effie stood adamant on that. "We have work to do tomorrow."

Johanna levelled her gaze, silently imploringly Effie to team up with her against Haymitch and Effie pursed her lips. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Johanna threw her hands up in frustration.

"You're boring," she shot.

"Boring is good."

At Haymitch's loud snort, Effie turned to glare.

"Boring is good? The hell is that?"

"It is good! It means – Oh, look, there she goes," Effie cried despairingly, watching Johanna tower over a man sitting by one of the booth only to bend forward teasingly, giving him a clear view of her cleavage. "Should we….."

"Nah," Haymitch chuckled, downing his own drink. "She's a big girl and  _'boring is good'_  ain't her philosophy in life," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Let her live."

"Don't wait up," Johanna winked, dragging the man out of the bar.

"Do  _not_  be late tomorrow!" Effie shouted after her.

All she got for her efforts was the door shutting without Johanna sparing them even a second glance. Effie seriously hoped that Johanna was not planning on bringing the man home to her apartment.

"So…." Haymitch swivelled in his seat to properly face her with his free hand pouring her a glass of tequila. "What is it like living with Johanna Mason?"

"She is as messy as you are. If I have to judge who is messier, I wouldn't be able to. You are a both a tie."

"Still remembered what it's like to share a space with me, huh?" he smirked.

Fifteen years of sharing the same Penthouse with him for a month or so… It was ingrained in her memories.

"I should head home."

"Why? So you can listen to them fuck?" Haymitch laughed. "Where else you think she's gonna go? A hotel… where she run the risk of running into papparazi? Nah, she's heading over to your place."

"Where should I go then? It might be hours before they are done… I wouldn't know, would I? Should I call or - "

"Here, go back to mine," Haymitch palmed his keys off to her. "You have a boring reputation to maintain so go ahead even if it's still early… Take the bed if you have to. I'll take the couch."

The only problem with going back to his rented apartment, she soon realised, was that she had no change of clothes and she absolutely refused to sleep in the one she was wearing now.

_How improper…._

His wardrobe, unsurprisingly, was a mess. He had not even bothered to hang any on hooks and hangers. He had dumped his clothes at the bottom of it. Clearly all he had done was upend his duffel bag when he arrived.

She fished out a grey shirt, rumpled with two small holes near the rounded neckline. It was simple enough for bedtime and horrid enough to never be seen on anyone if they wished to step out in public.

Clutching it close to her chest, she went to the bathroom and stepped under the shower. She emerged with her hair wrapped in a towel and his oversized shirt hanging off her frame.

Effie was already in bed, feet tucked beneath the covers, while she sat half-propped on the headboard, going over the schedule for the upcoming week from her tablet when she heard the front door unlock.

Haymitch moved about the house – the sound of his footsteps against the parquet floor, the running water from the kitchen sink and the clicking of the light switch in the sitting room – before the bedroom door slowly creaked open and he poked his head in.

"Oh," he blinked at the sight of her looking expectantly back at him. "Thought you'd be asleep by now."

She smiled. "Checking up on me?"

He pushed the door further and she blushed when his eyes took the sight of her in.

"I borrowed one of your shirts."

Haymitch leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.

"Looks better on you," he shrugged even though all he saw was the upper half of her body.

His face was lighted up by the gentle warm glow of the lamp and it softened his features considerably, and there was something in the air surrounding him in that particular instance that made her heart lurched.

"There's enough space for you," her thoughts spilled out before she could process them.

His gaze shifted to the empty space next to her and the hesitation played across his face. She could see him thinking it through before he gave a shake of his head.

"It's fine," he declined gently. "I don't sleep much so the couch won't be a problem."

Effie sat up just then, looking at him imploringly. A part of her was little hurt by that but she quickly worked out that he was being careful.

"Haymitch – "

She stopped when he stepped into the room. But instead of climbing into bed like she thought he would for that one wild moment, he simply sat down on the armchair next to the bed.

"This," he gestured at him sitting down and her on the bed, "is familiar."

At her perplexed expression, he chuckled.

"Didn't think you'd remember – you were unconscious. After – uh – after they got you out," he shifted in his seat, "of prison and you were recuperatin' in the hospital, I sat to keep watch whenever I could."

"I never saw you when I was awake," she frowned.

"Yeah, well, you were hysterical each time you saw me and at the risk of havin' you sedated every damn time, I made myself scarce and…. By then, when you were awake, Coin was discussing what to do with you. I had to make sure that … she didn't touch you. She  _wouldn't_  touch you."

Effie frowned.

"Did you make some kind of deal for me?"

"I did what I had to. What I should have back in Thirteen if I had known."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

This was new. This was something they had never talked about. Back then, the wounds were still too fresh and she was still far too angry and disappointed with him. Back then she had not wanted to listen and he couldn't get a word in before he left for Twelve with Katniss in frustration.

"Katniss made a deal with Coin while I was in rehab. I had no contact with Katniss, not while I was drying out and it wasn't like our girl wanted to see me either. She had no idea you were taken prisoner and Plutarch didn't think it was information relevant to Katniss' decision making. If I had been there, sweetheart, I could have made sure…. I wasn't there but  _after_ …. When there was something I could do, I did it."

She swallowed hard.

If he could, he would have and with her, he would always try.

She had never doubted but she just couldn't look past the anger to see that.

"I am not…. I am not angry with you, Haymitch."

"What? Right now?"

"Before," she answered. "Being angry…. It is so exhausting."

His finger turned the gold bangle on his wrist distractedly. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'd know that better than anyone else."

"Johanna said some things to me... She reminded me that I put one foot in the grave when I made my allegiance glaringly known with the gold wig which was not exactly subtle, when I went off to buy Peeta's gold pendant. I tried to be careful when making that purchase but... They do have a way of making people talk."

"You're just sentimental, sweetheart, it makes a fool out of the best people. You were punished for your loyalty and I made a mistake. I - "

Effie pushed the covers back and swung her legs over the bed so she was perched on its side, directly facing Haymitch.

"You didn't. You had to think about keeping Katniss and Peeta both alive in that arena. You had to think of getting them out safely to Thirteen. You had a Rebellion to be responsible for. I had no space in there for you to worry about."

"Effie - "

"And it is something I have come to terms with," she said before he could derail her train of thoughts. "I have had the time to think, plenty of time alone here to think about everything. I wasn't really angry at being left behind when you made it to District Thirteen. The children were your priorities and I wouldn't change that."

"You sure?" He frowned. "Cause you spent months being angry with me."

"I felt a tremendous amount of resentment when I was left behind during the rescue. You have to understand where I was mentally at that point. I was tortured, I was in pain, I was starving and I couldn't think straight. It made me feel so irrelevant that I meant so very little for my name to be on the list  _but_  I know now that neither you nor Plutarch had any idea where I was being held, much less that I was with the three victors. I know now that you were indisposed in District Thirteen when Katniss came up with the list for immunity."

Outside in the apartment, the streets were still alive - teenagers laughing and talking with their friends, adults partying and the rise and fall of sounds coming from drive in movie playing in the park nearby - but here in this room, the feeling as if they were in their own bubble, in their own world was overwhelming. It was only them, talking about the things that had created a wedge between them.

Perhaps, this was what nights were for; quiet admissions and delicate emotions that might feel too burdensome to talk about under the sun; for the reminder that any problems that were too heavy for the heart to bear would end, just like this night would, and when the sun comes up the next morning, they would know what light looks like.

"Yeah, I see how all that could make anyone lose their fuckin' temper," Haymitch nodded easily in agreement. " _That_ and what you presumed from the votes."

Effie flushed because the votes were a gross misjudgement on her part.

"Yes, I was furious about it and everything happened so fast after that. The execution, President Coin's assassination, Katniss' trial... We never really had any time between us to talk about anything. The anger kept festering in my heart and suddenly, you were there standing in my apartment telling me you had to leave with Katniss. I thought to myself, and I admit I was being inherently selfish right at that moment,  _here we go again_. The pattern kept repeating, Haymitch. I grew extremely tired of being left behind and I couldn't go with you when I thought you had voted for another Games."

The space between them – from the bed to the armchair – seemed to shrink as she talked. It was therapeutic to be able to unload everything, to have him listen to her, to let him know that she was now willing to move past it.

"I'm sorry," she apologised for the second time within the space of days. "I was irrational and wrong, and all the names I called you were horrible."

"For what it's worth, Effie," he leaned forward slightly, capturing her hand thus bridging the space, "I'm sorry. I should have made you my priority, too."

She offered him a smile.

"You're the friend I know the longest who is still alive," his lifted his eyes to look at her. "We were in a shit storm after the war but I want us to be okay. I have Katniss and Peeta but they ain't you."

Effie heard what he didn't say. No one knew him better than her. No one could ever reach the kind of understanding and familiarity they shared.

"No one can ever be me."

His laughter filled the room. Haymitch left her for the couch outside but not before kissing her forehead, and she went to sleep that night feeling at ease and with a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Johanna is here! Also thanks to her, Effie spent the night at Haymitch's place so let me know what you think of Johanna being there or the hayffie talk :)


	12. Johanna's Troubles

**12\. Johanna's Trouble**

The door was unlocked which made Effie pursed her lips in annoyance. Anyone could have walked in here and while she did not have that many valuable things to be worth any thieving, she still wished Johanna was more careful.

"You think they're still in there?"

"I hope  _he_  is not," Effie muttered as she led Haymitch in.

She had been adamant about returning home to have a change of clothes. She refused to go through a day at work in yesterday's clothes and she was not about to wear any of Haymitch's clothes to office either. Times might have changed but she still considered dressing to perfection a priority.

Since he happened to already be awake, they decided to leave together, making a pit stop at her apartment before heading off.

Effie eyed the floor in disdain, picking up Johanna's bra and left boot before setting it down on a chair, all the while shaking her head as Haymitch watched on in amusement.

"Think you missed out her panties," he chuckled.

She wrinkled her nose but since it was partially hidden – likely, kicked away during their tryst – Effie made a mental note to inform Johanna to take care of it. She turned and yelped, feeling rough hands holding her upright.

It was only then that she began to feel the warmth of naked skin on her and something unpleasant poking her in the stomach. She shuddered, refusing to let her mind think about what it was. Effie looked up, staring straight at a pair of brown eyes.

 _They're the wrong colour,_  she thought briefly, before she felt herself ripped away from the stranger.

"Don't fuckin' touch her," Haymitch growled, pushing her protectively behind him.

"Sorry, man," the stranger put both hands up in an amicable gesture.

The man, Effie noticed once she managed to get Haymitch from blocking her view, was stark naked and he was standing there in  _her_ living room. Her gaze strayed downwards unwittingly. Haymitch, who was looking at her, noticed it too and he scowled.

"Put on some fucking clothes," he snarled. "There's a lady here, have some respect."

She really couldn't help the small chuckles that escaped. Here he was, Haymitch Abernathy, constantly trying to protect her honour even when she didn't ask him to, even when she was capable of handling the situation herself. She wondered if Haymitch realised that in a way, he was selfish. He had no problem walking around naked when it was only them in the Penthouse during the Games but when another man did it, it made him see red.

"Uh, I was just... gonna get my clothes when I bumped into you. Sorry, miss, didn't mean to scare you. I'll be out of your hair," he explained, grabbing his boxer tossed on the armchair in a hurry. "She's still sleeping but she said something about - "

The man turned just then and Effie saw the scratch marks on his back. Naturally, her mind wandered to the things Johanna had done with him and she wished she could reel back her thoughts.

" - going for drinks tonight? I didn't get her number... or her name but I recognised her, the infamous Johanna Mason."

Haymitch raised a dubious eyebrow, looking at him from head to toe. Effie laid a hand on his arm to stay him. She had no idea what was going on with Johanna but Effie doubted she really planned for drinks with this stranger and she particularly did not like the way he referred to her as the infamous Johanna Mason.

"I think it will be best if you leave now," Effie told him. Turning towards Haymitch, she lowered her voice and asked, "Will you make sure he leaves? I should wake Johanna up before we all run late."

Johanna was sleeping on her stomach, naked in all her glory. Her eyes roamed the younger woman's body, noting the numerous scars, knowing very well that she could recount how Johanna sustained that scar running from her shoulder blade to her left rib or that jagged scar near her hip bone or the one at the base of her neck from when they shaved her hair and nicked her skin.

Effie called her name softly, repeatedly, until her voice broke into the haze of her dream. The young woman jolted into a sitting position, her eyes darting wildly until it stopped on Effie. She visibly relaxed.

"Not late," she mumbled, pointing to the clock.

"That is because I am here to ensure that you are not," Effie plastered a smile, trying not to cringe at the state of her guestroom. "Now, big, big day today, so  _please,_  do get ready. Haymitch is taking care of your... other problem."

Johanna made no mention of the man nor did she show any interest in him so Effie supposed, they made the right call to send him off despite his claim of further dates tonight.

They made it to the Parliament in good time, no thanks to Johanna who clearly took her time until Effie's continuous sighs irritated her. Once Effie gave her a map of Finnick's arena, Johanna was much more subdued than her normal self, only breaking her silence once they were in the hovercraft.

"He was my best friend – didn't get it through his thick head that I didn't want his friendship but I'm glad he was stubborn," she spoke so quietly Effie had to strain her ears to pick it up against the roar of the hovercraft's engine as it took off. "Haymitch had Chaff, I had him. I didn't need it but he shielded me whenever he could. Take on anyone who's interested in me even after Snow's got no one left I love to hurt me with."

Johanna was completely oblivious to the look Effie exchanged with Haymitch over her head. Finnick's calm had always been a gracious complement to Johanna's temper. That was not something Effie was oblivious to but there were certain aspect of their friendship that she was not aware of, and clearly, neither did Haymitch.

"Should have been there," she crossed her arms and stared out of the window. "Would have protected his fuckin' ass if Thirteen had cleared me for the damn star squad. It might have turned out differently for him and Annie."

"We don't know that," Haymitch objected, sitting across from her. "It is the way it is, kid. We gotta live with it. You think I don't want Chaff here? Or Mags? They deserve to be in this world – they fought for it just as much."

Like Haymitch had done with Mags' arena, Johanna torched Finnick's. She took the trident he used to win his Games with her but let everything in there burn to the ground. Neither Effie nor Haymitch asked what she planned to do with that trident Mags had the sponsors gifted him with but Effie hoped Johanna wasn't planning on giving it to little Finn when he grew up. It felt wrong somehow.

Since Johanna was there, Effie moved Annie's and Johanna's arena forward in her schedule so there would be no need for her to make multiple trips to the Capitol.

Annie's arena took quite longer than normal. A portion of the place had been turned into a water park from the earthquake that broke the damn which meant that the water had to be vacuumed out before the explosives could be put in place.

Effie watched Johanna and Haymitch as they took in the sight of the three colourful looping giant slides, the huge bucket that would collect water and upend at a specific time on joyous Capitol children, and the long stream of lazy river where people would float on their buoy as it took them downstream.

There was also a 'hot spring' at the base of the volcano. Since nothing in here was natural, it was simply a gigantic jacuzzi but Capitols were very good at playing pretend as it happened. A large pool had been carved out just south of the lazy river, something Effie thought Finnick would have appreciate if it wasn't actually in Annie's arena.

Haymitch had somehow resigned himself to the oddity that the arenas had been turned to and had nothing to say. Johanna peered over the edge into the river and wondered, "so if someone pees in there, it means you Capitols will be swimming around in it."

"Who is doing the honour?" Baron asked, saving Effie from delving further into that horrific thought.

He approached the trio, detonator in hand. The arena was ready to be demolished.

By then, it was already late in the afternoon and the sun was setting across the horizon. Johanna stepped up, taking the remote from him. Speaking into her communication piece, Effie alerted the Command Centre to bring up the force field once they were all standing outside of it. Johanna took great pleasure in pressing the button that eventually rocketed the arena in a contained demolition.

"Mine's tomorrow, yeah?"

"It is," Effie nodded as they descended down the stairs of the Parliament to head home. "Yours is scheduled for 10.00 am and - where are you going?"

"Don't wait up," she waved and disappeared down one of the alleys.

Effie turned towards Haymitch, biting her lower lip as she did so. "I hope she is  _not_ planning on repeating what happened yesterday."

"The way I see it you can head home right now and lock the door before she comes home  _or_ you can come over my place," Haymitch shrugged, giving her the option.

She thought it through but eventually made up her mind. "I will head home. It is my house and I will not hide away from it."

"Alright. Call if you need anything, yeah?"

At two in the morning, Effie was startled awake by the ringing of her phone. The voice of a clearly annoyed Haymitch greeted her.

"I'm coming over," he said without preamble but Effie could guess from the loud music in the background that Johanna had clearly invaded  _his_  space.

"I can't believe you locked me out of your house, Trinket!"

Effie winced. She was perfectly fine with letting Johanna in but the thought of having a stranger in a place she had learnt to feel safe in was not something she could deal with lately. She should have made it clear with Johanna from the start. It was her fault.

"She's got the same guy from yesterday," Haymitch sighed. "I'm gonna let them have this place. I'll go to yours. You're okay with that?"

_Better Haymitch than a stranger._

_"_ Absolutely. I'm terribly sorry you're in this position."

"Ain't your fault. Don't fucking touch my booze," she heard Haymitch yell over the music before he hung up.

He was there ten minutes later. Effie led him to the guest bedroom except he looked appalled at the mere thought.

"I ain't sleeping on  _that –_ imagine what went on there yesterday night," he grumbled. "I'm fine with the couch, sweetheart."

"You can sleep with me, Haymitch," she offered.

"You sure?"

"Yes, of course," she nodded with a smile. "The bed is much more comfortable than the couch."

When she woke up to find herself cocooned in his embrace, Effie couldn't say she was surprised. They had a way of unconsciously gravitating towards one another especially so in their sleep when their guards were down.

Effie blinked, looking at him, making no move to extricate herself from the situation. She missed this. She missed having the heavy weight of his arm thrown carelessly around her waist. She missed waking up with her face pressed against his chest. She missed the warmth that only he could give her.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, you know the drill, let me have your reviews! Tell me your thoughts on this chapter :)
> 
> Also, just a quick announcement, there will not be an update next week as I'll be sitting for my exam paper & then flying off after. So see you in 2 weeks!


	13. The Plan All Along

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes HELLO! It's me. I'm back to finish what I started. If you're following me on Tumblr, you know I started binge watching Friends (for the first time!) and got so caught up I haven't written anything since 2018 came around. So tonight, I decided, no Friends and got down to writing this chapter, so here you have it!

 

**13\. The Plan All Along**

Johanna's arena was a frozen replica of downtown Capitol. It later gave the inspiration for the ruined city arena designed for the 73rd Games two years later.

With an axe in tow, Johanna marched into her arena, hacking to bits every Capitol display in her path that was set up after her games to attract the tourists.

Chest heaving and a mad grin etched on her face, Johanna cackled, "You should join. It's fun."

Haymitch who was standing over the section that had been cordoned off for tourists to dine raised a dubious eyebrow. Still, following the destruction Johanna was leaving in her wake, he picked a plate with its intricate designs and let it slip slowly from his fingers.

"Oops," he said when Effie's gaze darted to him.

"Haymitch, honestly!"

"Plenty of plates around and other shits, sweetheart. Go crazy."

With that, he threw a cup in the air in her direction. She caught it between her palms. When she looked at him, he jerked his head to the right. Emboldened by his encouragement, Effie threw the fine china against the wall of the cornucopia.

Hearing it shatter sent an odd thrill running up her spine. Fragile, pretty things were meant to be handled delicately. If her mother could see her now, she would be appalled but there was freedom to be found in not having to worry about trivial things like that so Effie picked up another plate and let it fall to her feet.

She glanced at Haymitch to see him take a chair only to slam it sideways against the leg of the dining table. It splintered causing the table to collapse on its side.

There was nothing remotely funny about that so the laugh that escaped her lips surprised her. But she felt… lighter, freer.

Haymitch grinned as he caught her eyes.

Their antics must have caught Johanna's attention for she came over, swinging her axe down on the other side of the table.

"They dined in the arena they threw  _me_  in," she grunted as she brought her axe down again, "while others starved in the district."

Behind them, Cressida left the cameras rolled, filming everything she could. Effie made a mental note for that particular scene with Johanna to be cut out. It was better left on the editing floor, a behind the scenes that only those present knew. The last thing she wanted was to have her victors associated with any form of unnecessary aggression and even if she personally thought Johanna deserved to do what she wanted to do here, Effie was still better at managing their public image.

When the arena was blown up, Johanna marched back towards the hovercraft without a second glance.

XxX

"I heard he's a friend of Gale Hawthorne," Haymitch informed her as he took another drink from his whiskey glass. "Posted out here to the Capitol a couple of weeks back."

Effie frowned, her gaze cutting to where Johanna was dancing with the man Effie had inadvertently found naked in her own apartment. He did have the military look and if he was a friend of Gale, it would explain why he recognised Johanna. Gale must have said something.

"I see," she said coolly.

"You don't approve," Haymitch remarked with a hint of amusement.

"It's not – " she signed, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. "I have no say in who Johanna dates but the way she and Gale parted… One might wonder if this isn't her way of getting back at him by sleeping with his friend. It won't do him or  _her_  any good."

The bar was getting crowded by the minute but Haymitch seemed contented sitting in that corner booth with her, occasionally watching the people leaving and entering the place and the people at the dance floor.

"She can take care of herself, sweetheart. She's young, let her have fun. She'll have plenty of time to fall in love."

"What about our time?"

He looked at her sharply.

"I – I mean we are getting older... Anyone caught your eye in District Twelve? There are new people moving in nowadays, isn't it?"

"Don't fish, sweetheart. If you want to know if I'm seeing anyone you should just ask."

"I'm not," she pursed her lips.

"Okay," he shrugged but she saw the smirk he hid behind the drink he tipped back.

"Are you not the least bit interested to know if I am?"

"I've seen your apartment," Haymitch deadpanned. "And I've slept in your bed. That's not a bed sheet you put on when you have a guy over, and not a single candle in your bedroom. You like that shit, don't you? Setting the mood and all that crap," he waved his hand.

Effie gasped and glared at him. She  _hated_  how much he knew her and the things she did when she actually had a boyfriend thought it does seemed like ages ago since she had one.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Johanna interjected and plopped down on the seat next to Effie. "I'm tired of dancing."

Effie cleared her throat. "I was just telling, Haymitch, I have just received the approval from President Paylor this afternoon for Katniss' travel. She's flying in tomorrow with Peeta."

"Peeta? Thought he wanted to sit it out…" Johanna pointed.

"Where she goes, he does too," Haymitch quipped.

The arrival of Katniss and Peeta was kept carefully under wraps to prevent media frenzy. Katniss was here to complete a job and as much as Effie loathed to have that disrupted, she didn't think Katniss was ready to face the mob.

It was decided that since Johanna was there and to spare her a day of having nothing to do, the 75th arena would be destroyed first instead of the 74th. Beetee had opted to remain in Three instead of making a trip again and Enobaria had not changed her mind at all.

The hovercraft landed on the beach on a sunny morning. Peeta stepped out as if in a trance. Katniss gazed up at the thick forest.

"Never thought I'd be back," Peeta whispered.

"What's this sector, you think?" Johanna asked, coming to a stand next to Katniss.

"No idea," Katniss shrugged but pointed to her right. "That's the tree."

The 75th arena was unlike the rest they had been. For one, thanks largely to the Rebellion, the arena was never turned into a tourist spot. Half of the dome remained collapsed from where the rebels had bombed it in order to get to Katniss and the others.

Broken scaffolds hung from the above while pieces of metal and debris littered the floor.

There were evidence from where Peacekeepers had stomped the arena looking for remaining victors but Effie chose not to dwell on it too much. It was still painful to think of Johanna and Peeta being dragged and taken from there to join her in the cell.

"How do we want to do this?" Katniss' firm voice broke through her thoughts.

"It will be symbolic to burn it down," Cressida suggested. "If we burn, you burn with us…"

Katniss' brows crinkled but eventually, she shrugged in agreement, more to get it over and done with than anything else.

XxX

With the 75th arena gone, it was to be Johanna's last night in the city. Effie had already arranged for her transport back to District Four in the morning so with that, Effie decided to take them all to a nice, quiet restaurant for dinner. It was nice to have everyone together and she vowed, that once this was all over, they should all gather with Annie and Finn.

"I held him up in front of me, right? And so Annie's telling me that I have to move my palm in circles on his back after the feeding and that little shit vomited all over me," Johanna said.

Snickering, Katniss said, "You're lucky it's only milk he consumes. It could have been worst. It could have _smelt_  worse."

"What else can he do now?" Peeta leaned forward eagerly in his seat.

Effie was only paying half of her attention to the children. The other half was acutely aware of Haymitch's gaze drifting towards her all throughout dinner. He liked to watch her, she realised that.

"You can't hide it from me, sweetheart. I know that smile," he said, walking in step next to her after they had parted ways with the children. "It's the ones you plaster on for the cameras. I thought the kids being here would have made you happy,  _genuinely_  happy."

"I am," she said hurriedly. "Of course I am thrilled that they are here. I have missed them terribly."

"But…?"

She sighed knowing it was futile to deny anything, especially with him.

"Being in the arena for the Quell… It just made me think a lot."

"Yeah? What about?"

They came to a stop at a traffic junction and Effie glanced his way.

"It could have been you."

He turned to look at her. "What?"

It was only after they crossed the junction and was cutting through the park that Effie started speaking again. He handed her his silver flask.

"You look like you might need it," he said simply.

The moon peeked at them through the tree branches and the sip of whiskey provided her warmth against the cooling night breeze.

"When the Quell announcement was made, I was in my old apartment and for one horrendous selfish moment, I remembered wishing that it wouldn't be your name I pick during the Reaping. I realised, of course, that that would mean sentencing Peeta into the Games. I was terribly upset and scared but I swear, I love Peeta, too."

He stopped abruptly, processing the implication what it meant to hear  _I love Peeta, too_  because that would suggest that she…

"I know," he shook his head to clear the thoughts. "You fucked me that night in the train as if you'd never see me again."

She remembered that night well. There had been an unspoken despair and desperation in their coupling both on her and his part. He had held on to as if his world was about to split apart and she had held on to him because she had come so close to losing him. The problem with them was that they never talked about it. By morning, she had left him in her bed and had gone on to ensure that everything was as scheduled.

"Being in that arena today, I was … I was overwhelmed by the thought that you could have easily been a tribute again. That it could have been  _your_  arena again. I came so … I came so close to losing you. I couldn't even tell you how much that scares me then and now, and –"

"Now?" he asked, cutting off her walk by standing in front of her. His hand rose to cup her cheeks, a thumb brushing gently over it. "I'm here now. I'm always gonna be around, ain't losin' me to anything maybe except liver failure," he joked and winced when she hit his chest. "When this whole thing ends, I'll be in Twelve, sweetheart. You'll find me there. We're friends, yeah? You can visit… if you want to, that is."

She gripped her wrist in a vice before slowly relaxing and pressing her cheek against the calloused palm.

"When I stood in the arena, I was reminded of how fleeting it all is. I could have lost you," she repeated. "You are here trying to make amends but I spent months being  _angry_  with you and for what, Haymitch? At the end of the day, we only have each other. That's the truth, isn't it? I only have you. Everyone else is gone. I only have you."

Standing there in the middle of the pathway in the park, their faces illuminated by the street light, Effie could read the shock on his features plain as day. The way his Adam's apple bopped up and down with every swallow as he tried get a word in, the way he blinked and stared at her and touched her arm lightly as if to make sure she was real and standing in front of him….

"You have the kids, too," he croaked.

"You are right, I do, and I have been quite unfair to them, keeping myself here in the city. We are a team, wasn't that what you reminded me of recently? We should stick together. You are all my Victors, my  _family._ "

"So… What – What are you saying?" his brows crinkled as he peered down at her.

"I don't know… I …"

"I lost you three times, Effie," he interjected.

Her confused gaze found his.

"When they captured you…" he ticked one finger off, "when Johanna told me how you were left behind in prison… When you acted as if I didn't exist… The last was the worst," he admitted under his breath. "I deserved it but it didn't change the fact that you were alive and yet I still manage to fuck it up. Had a lot of time on my hands when I took Katniss back to Twelve to do some thinkin', you know? Came to some pretty dark conclusions about you," he chuckled bitterly, looking anywhere but at her.

"What is it?" she asked softly.

"Maybe that's all there is to you and me – we'll meet, we'll leave again and again just like during the Games. We come and we go. Even now when we have peace…. I'm here to do this with you and then I'll leave. You'll be here and I'll be there, nothing changes."

Hearing  _him_ of all people admit to that broke something inside of her - something that was already yearning to find a place somewhere… to belong.

"I'm sorry," she choked on the sob threatening to escape. "I let my anger blind me for so long but the anger was all I had. I'm slowly learning to let it go, to understand why you did the things you did and I have nothing in here," she clutched her chest, "except this aching hole in my heart from your absence."

"Hey," he muttered, maneuvering her to the nearby bench. "Come on, sweetheart, it's okay."

If anyone walked this path, they might wonder what was going on – a woman, bend in half crying and Haymitch with an arm around her.

"I don't want a middle ground, Haymitch. I am just as selfish as you can be. I want everything or nothing. I want you to want me as much as I want you. I want to be the first person you thought of when you wake up. I want to know what it feels like to be someone else's priority, the way you had been mine for so many years but I'm tired of asking you to stay, to not leave me behind. I'm exhausted. I don't want to have to ask. I want to be wanted."

He scoffed.

"You've always had the need to be wanted," he teased.

Eyes red from crying, she glared hard at him.

"Listen, sweetheart, I'll never get tired of asking if you'd come with me. I'll ask again and again if that's what it takes. This city and these people, it ain't your place, Effie. Your life's boring as shit. You go to sleep alone. You wake up alone. You eat alone. You work until you're dead on your feet then you come home. You have  _nothing_."

"You are the worst at this comforting business," she pressed a handkerchief to her cheeks.

"Come with me," he took her hands. "When this ends, come home with me, yeah? We'll annoy the hell out of each other, we'll argue, we'll think of ways to make up. We live and watch the kids grow together. We'll watch  _their_  babies grow together when Katniss finally opens her eyes that the boy's been wanting to marry her for real this time."

He tilted her chin up.

"We'll make trips to Four, you know, to visit Finn. We'll drop by Seven- Johanna's got an abandoned cabin there I heard. I could work on it, make it comfortable for us to stay in for a week or two when we're bored in Twelve."

"How long have you been thinking about this?" she lifted her gaze to him. "It sounds like you've had it all planned out."

"Yeah," he smirked. "From the moment you told me in Twelve that you wished you had never met me. Can't lose you for the fourth time after you voluntarily came all the way to Twelve, new project aside."

The guilt flashed through her face. She hadn't meant it then. She had just been so… frustrated with him.

"Come home with me, alright?" he asked, letting his gaze bore into hers and then she felt his lips.

The cold weather had made his lips a little dry but it was still as soft as she remembered, and he still tasted of whiskey when they kissed. His grip found the familiar place at the nape of her neck, her fingers clutched the front of his shirt and when she had to raise herself on tip toe just to chase his lips, to feel more of him, it finally felt like the gap in her heart was filled.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, everyone! So tell me what you think! Quite a few major developments happening here and the KISS! Leave me reviews. We've got one more chapter left and then I'm done! Oh, i'm a bit late but HAPPY 2018!


	14. Settling

  1. Settling



Effie blew lightly over the steaming mug of her morning coffee, a silly smile still etched on her face. She must have replayed the scene in the park about a hundred times by now. The shower this morning was spent in a daze as she remembered what it was like to have him kiss her.

It was unbecoming, truly. She was not a teenager anymore and having Haymitch Abernathy kiss her shouldn’t make her like she was walking on clouds but it did.

It was a relief to finally be able to let it all go; to finally look in the mirror and know that the person staring back at her was no longer full of anger and resentment. It felt _whole_ to be able to forgive the one person who mattered the most to her and knew that even through her cold treatment of him, he stood steadfast by her. He truly was a gem, not that she would tell him in case it gets to his head, but he was a good man, and at times, she felt underserving of him. 

The knock on her door startled her. She placed the mug carefully on a coaster before making her way to the door.

 _Haymitch,_ she noted happily when she saw his back through the peephole.

They did not make plans for him to drop by her place this morning after they parted ways the night before and she had simply assumed that they would meet at the Parliament as was their usual practice.

“Haymitch,” she beamed.

Her good mood was so apparent that he looked on at her with amusement.

“Did I make your morning?” he teased.

“Perhaps… Perhaps… Or it could be that my coffee beans were roasted perfectly this morning,” she looked at him over her shoulder as she sashayed back into the kitchen, all the while aware that he was staring at her ass.

“I – uh – I know I don’t usually come over before we fly off to the arena but I spent the night… I was thinking about…” he exhaled. “I just wanted to see you. Before we head off to work…”

Likely to catch her _alone_ , she mused.

She turned, resting her hands on the back of a chair, smiling indulgently at him. He slowed down at the kitchen entrance, watching her before coming around to where she was only to kiss her hard.

Effie reciprocated without missing a beat, tangling her fingers in his hair just as he took a step forward until her back hit the kitchen table. He lifted her up easily enough.

It had been so long and yet they moved as if the time apart from each other was just a minor inconvenience to what should always have been.

“I came for this,” he drew back just enough to tell her that before kissing the side of her neck.

“I deduced as much,” she told him.

They took their time kissing and neither Haymitch nor Effie tried to take it any further than just mindless touching and patting.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured as he swept her hair behind her shoulder.

Raising her head to meet his gaze, Effie ran a finger down his stubble cheek. His grey eyes were bright under the morning light and his gaze was intense.

“What are you thinking about?”

“There are four more arenas,” he answered, “and it’s not over fast enough. I want to get you out of here, take you home like I told you I would. Can you imagine the look on the kids’ faces when they see you walkin’ down the pathway in the Village with your suitcase in tow to _my_ house…”

They would be surprised but they would welcome her. They were a family which meant she would always have a place in Twelve and in their lives but the others…

“We’re not getting ahead of ourselves, are we, Haymitch?” she bit on her bottom lip worriedly.

Effie had tried to picture herself in District Twelve him, and while she knew she would be safe in Victor’s Village with Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch, keeping herself secluded in there forever was hardly an option. Hiding was not living but the thought of the reaction from the locals had her stomach in knots.

Would they ever be able to accept her? Would they be able to look beyond her past and understand that like them, she was just trying to find somewhere to begin her life again?

“What do you mean?” his face scrunched. “You want this, yeah? You havin’ second thoughts, sweetheart?”

“No, no,” she was quick to placate. “I am just… uncertain if my presence would be welcomed. I – I was an escort and that is not a fact that I could run away from.”

He relaxed just slightly knowing that it was not _him_ she had a problem with.

“Not everyone will be welcoming… But they won’t do anything to you. Not with me, Katniss and Peeta there. No one will dare but being accepted… It’ll still take time, sweetheart, but you’ve got to start first, yeah? They’ll see that you ain’t that bad. It’s already public knowledge that you aided Katniss and Peeta every way you can during the Games and the Rebellion, that you were imprisoned for that … People know ‘bout you and Jo and Annie, you know? People know you make trips to Four to visit Finn, and if you’re all bad, you’re the last person Jo would let near the baby. The smart ones will understand. The ones with half a brain and can think for themselves… You don’t be a victor’s friend after the war, especially if you were from the Capitol, if there’s nothin’ about you we like,” he chuckled. He ran a thumb across her cheekbone comfortingly. “Beside, when this program is broadcasted and people get to see that you’re the one in-charge of getting the arena destroyed… Well, that won’t hurt your case either.”

Effie nodded and embraced him, comforted by his word and his warmth.

“We _deserve_ this, sweetheart,” he muttered gruffly in her ear. “Just this _one_ thing – you and me together – no more Games, no more Rebellion, no more Snow or Coin telling us what to do, where to go, when to see each other….”

“Yes,” she agreed, running her finger up and down the back of his neck. “We do.”

“Anything else that’s worrying you?” he asked to which she shook her head. “Good. I’m starving. What’d you have?”

All she had was toasts and jam which seemed to satisfy him. They spent breakfast discussing the remaining arena and the memorial to be built with the names of the fallen tribute in its place. When they finally left her apartment to the Parliament to meet Katniss and Peeta, Effie’s good mood from that morning had double.

She greeted the man by the newspaper stand and smiled at strangers passing by her.

Once in a while, she would glance his way, noting the ease in her heart and the calm in her mind knowing that despite all the anger and rage, they had made it this far. For the first time since the war ended, Effie felt at peace and she felt hopeful, as if the new beginnings everyone was talking about after President Snow fell was suddenly meant for her too.

As they crossed the road, Effie slipped her hand in his.

She felt him tense a little.

“Is this okay?” Effie asked, quite aware that they were in public and that he might not be comfortable with it at all.

“Yeah,” he muttered. She felt his fingers flexed before his grip tightened. “Yeah, of course, sweetheart.”

By all accounts, this was not something new. They had held hands before but it was never like this. It was never without reasons. They had never held hands simply because they wanted to.

It was always out of desperation like when Katniss and Peeta nearly at the berries or when Peeta’s heart had stopped beating after he hit the force field or out of the need to seek comfort like he had done after destroying Chaff’s arena.

 _This_ felt nice, simply because.

Effie held on to his hand again as they watched Katniss wandered into the cave where she and Peeta had hid during the 74th Games. The girl came out, jaws clenched.

“Let’s go,” Katniss commanded.

“What’s in there?” Haymitch asked as they walked behind the kids.

“Countless of Capitol proposals… It was thought to be romantic,” Effie explained. “Katniss fed him and cared for him. It was a kind of intimacy most people in the Capitol hardly knew. It didn’t help that it was there that…. they first had their kiss after all.”

Haymitch snorted. His own note, _‘you call that a kiss? – H’_ had been an exhibit in the cave.

The arena was destroyed the same way the 75th had been. Katniss torched the place. They departed on the hovercraft even as the flames were still ferociously roaring within the contained arena.

Sending Katniss and Peeta off was easier than Effie thought it would be, largely because she knew she would seem them again soon. Neither Haymitch nor Effie had even alluded to the fact that at the end of this, Effie would be coming to Twelve. Not that she believed in such a thing, but she would rather not jinx it.

The 71st to the 73rd Games was quickly dealt with without much affair. By that point, Haymitch wanted to see it end. Since she was the person in-charge, Effie released him from his role as the representative of the victors and from his duties which meant, he was free to leave.

As they lay sprawled on the sofa in her apartment, she _promised_ that she would see him in District Twelve once she had seen through the rest of her tasks.

“Don’t see why I need to go,” he hummed, running his fingers through her hair with his chin propped on the top of her head. “I can stay until all this is over. Nothin’ much to do in Twelve anyway. I haven’t been around in Twelve for a while, what’s a couple more weeks? We’ll leave together.”

The thought of having him with her for a few more weeks made her snuggle a little closer to him.

Two weeks after they first kissed in the park, they had their first argument. Effie came home from the office to see him lounging on the armchair, feet on the table and whiskey in one hand. The dirty dishes from their breakfast that morning which she had asked him to help her with after he kept her in the bedroom longer than necessary were still in the sink. The bed was still unmade and his dirty clothes were still on the floor of her bedroom.

She had nagged until he became annoyed with her it and shouted at her, at which point she had screamed back before leaving the apartment with a loud slam of her door.

Haymitch found her at the stairwell, smoking and staring into nothing.

She glared at him when she saw him approached.

“Don’t want me around…?” he asked, lowering himself on one of the steps.

“Don’t be silly,” she exhaled, flicking the ashes off. “I had a really _long_ day, Haymitch, and the last thing I needed was to come back to a dumpster.”

“I know,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. “You wanna talk about it?”

He plucked the cigarette out of her fingers which only made her glare at him harder and crushed it under his boots before patting the empty space next to him. Ten years ago, if someone had said she would be sitting next to Haymitch Abernathy at dimly lit stairwell talking, she would have questioned their sanity.

“How does Katniss manage?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder. “With her book…”

“The memorial, yeah? It’s getting to you…”

“Yes. It’s just… there were so many tributes, Haymitch. Thousands of children….”

He brought his arm around her shoulder, squeezing it gently to provide whatever comfort he could give.

“When I had to help her with it, I got through a session with a hell of a lot of whiskey. That ain’t you, is it?” he chuckled.

Instead of answering, she lifted her pack of cigarettes.

“That won’t do either,” he frowned. “Look, sweetheart, one day at a time, alright? If it gets too much, then what you got to do is to stagger the years. You shouldn’t do too many years in one day. What’s the rush?”

“The faster this is over the faster we – “

“I know,” he cut her off before kissing her head. “You want it to be over and you want to leave but don’t put this pressure on yourself. You’re the one setting the deadline which means you can move it up ahead if you need it. I ain’t leaving till you’re leaving so…” he shrugged. “One day at a time.”

Knowing that he was right, she nodded and stood up, offering a helping hand to him. The moment they entered her apartment, he quickly jostled her in the direction of the bedroom before she could see the mess in the kitchen and get annoyed once more.

Effie fell asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. It felt like she had only dozed off when the noises and clanking in the kitchen woke her up. Pushing herself out of bed, the first thing she noticed was the lack of dirty clothes on the floor. They were all in the laundry basket. Bleary eyed, Effie moved silently to the kitchen.

She saw him there quietly washing the dishes. Effie watched him with such fondness in her eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted over his shoulder. “Thought you were asleep... Came to make sure I didn’t break your plates, huh?”

“You were noisy…” she pouted. “What are you doing? It’s in the middle of the night.”

“You had enough stress at work, I don’t need to be another one of your problems,” he answered nonchalantly. “As much as I enjoy arguing with you and finding ways to make it up to you, seeing you all worked up ain’t my favourite thing.”

 Laughing, she approached him and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the spot between his shoulder blades.

“This was unexpected and sweet. You know, I think I can get use to do this sight… You washing and drying dishes. It’s very domestic.”

He snorted.

“Just wondering…” he started, drying his hands as he turned around to face her. “I wore you down, yeah?”

He sounded so smug. At first, she didn’t understand his question until she remembered the night she came to Twelve with news about the arena and the conversation they had.

“You did not,” she returned. “I came to my senses.”

_~ Fin._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it! I promised you I would finish the fic and I did. I’m proud of myself and I hope you’ve had a fun time reading Wiping History. Please leave me your reviews for the last time for this story and let me know yours thoughts on it :)


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